Fragile Fantasies
by The Moss Stomper
Summary: When Cissnei left the Turks, she made a fresh start in the small coastal town of Utgar: new city, new job, new friends. One day, one of those friends shows up with her new bodyguard in tow – and Cissnei learns that no matter how far you run, the shadows of the past have a way of creeping up on you.
1. A Quiet Life

**1\. A Quiet Life**

* * *

Cissnei had the cobbled street to herself. Faded yellow brick and white-painted wood were the norm in this sleepy neighborhood, with well-tended gardens rolling out from the front of each house. The stillness no longer unnerved her, but she kept glancing over her shoulder nonetheless. Some habits were hard to shake.

The brine-scented breeze was a constant companion in the old harbor town of Utgar, tucked into a rugged bay on the northern coast. Cissnei breathed it in, filling every inch of her lungs. Every now and then the salt in the air stirred a memory from the early days of her childhood. Every now and then, it made her feel at home.

Cissnei looked up as she reached the last crossing on her way to work, casting a habitual glance up at the three-storey building across the street – the only one worth her attention, really. The top half of the brick wall was covered by a faded painting of a cartoon cat with a metal tin in its paws, advertising a brand of pastilles that no longer existed. Quaint and obsolete, much like the rest of Utgar.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. The harbor had gone through a revival after Meteorfall; evident in the number of high-end villas that had sprung up along the coast, since most of them were owned by newly-minted tycoons of the local shipping industry. The Utgar College had also become a serious contender after Midgar's downfall; as it expanded its programs, more and more students flooded into the town each year. At times it almost felt like a proper city.

But summer break had not yet ended, and Cissnei's part of Utgar remained a ghost town.

Another advertisement stuck out from the wall farther down the postcard-pretty street she was walking on, this one a sign shaped like a steaming cup on top of a stack of books. It marked the entrance to her destination, the Ink & Tea salon.

The scents of a dozen teas, spiced up with herbs and petals, engulfed her as soon as she opened the door. Stepping inside was like entering an old-fashioned parlor or library; every wall was panelled from top to bottom in wood stained a warm, dark brown. Arched alcoves were set into the walls on either side of her, some of them home to little tables for the customers. The alcove behind the counter held shelves with pots, cups and saucers.

Cissnei passed through the archway beside the counter into the library at the back of the salon. On her left was a clutter of bookshelves, most of them taller than herself; she passed them without a second glance. Her first stop was the staff room at the far end of the library. Once inside, she slipped on the white, frilly apron that served as her uniform. She ironed four crisp, white tablecloths, one for each of the four round tables in the front parlor. Together, they and she brought some much-needed brightness to the interior. The two windows onto the street were decently sized, but they and the parlor's single chandelier could only do so much against the ubiquitous dark paneling. Ironically, the two rooms in the back were far better lit, since they housed the books the salon offered for sale and reading.

Ten minutes before opening, the owner, a spry seventy-year-old named Mildred, showed up with a cardboard box of books stuffed into the trunk of her car. As Cissnei dragged the box inside, the woman chattered on about her plans to travel to Edge for even more books, peppered with well-meaning exhortations for Cissnei to mind her back; and to be very, very careful when placing books on the top shelves; and to remember to take out the trash when leaving for the day. Cissnei smiled and reassured the old lady, as she always did.

Once the cardboard box was safely tucked away among the shelves, Mildred bade her goodbyes and scurried back to her car. Cissnei eyed the box, but decided to leave it as it was for the time being. It would be a handy excuse when she needed a break from chatty customers. She returned to the front of the shop and opened the front door to another quiet, peaceful… and _slow_ day.

No, she shouldn't complain. This was the life she had chosen, after all.

* * *

A little past noon, the bell above the door jangled softly. Cissnei looked up from the book she had been reading and smiled upon seeing a familiar face: a blonde girl in her late teens who would drop in once or twice most weeks. She smiled shyly as she stepped inside, and closed the door carefully before padding up to the counter. A few flimsy strands of hair, too short for her ponytail, stuck to the sides of her round face, which was so pink from exertion that Cissnei suspected she had walked all the way from her seaside home.

"Hi, Nina. What can I get you today?"

"Sunglow, please," the girl huffed as she clambered onto one of the tall chairs by the counter. She was both taller and broader in the shoulders than Cissnei, but the way she hunched in her seat seemed to shrink her down to a similar size. "Just one cup, though."

"You got it."

Cissnei flipped the switch on the kettle, then pulled a jar down from the shelf behind her. The scent of jasmine and oranges wafted up at her as she spooned the flavored tea into one of the empty porcelain teapots. She could hear some shuffling behind her, but otherwise Nina stayed silent. Cissnei had expected as much. The girl's voice was too quiet to carry over the sound of boiling water, and she hardly ever initiated conversation.

Once the tea was brewing away, Cissnei turned back to find a twenty gil note resting on the counter. She smiled at Nina as she picked it up. On the girl's insistence, she had stopped asking whether she wanted any change a long time ago. Lucky for her that Nina was a regular, Cissnei mused as she coaxed open the drawer of the vintage till. A shop assistant's wage only went so far.

"So," she said out loud, "nervous about college yet?"

Nina's breath whooshed out of her as though she had been sitting there holding it, waiting for Cissnei's cue to speak.

"Too busy being angry with Daddy to even think about it. He still thinks I'm making a mistake."

She kept twisting the drawstring of her hoodie, switching directions when the coil got too tight to go any further. Cissnei had never been able to figure out whether it was a sign of anxiety or just a harmless quirk.

"Is this about you planning to do a computer degree?" she asked.

"What else? Every day it's business school this, business school that. As if I'd want to become a _secretary_." She spat it out like something foul.

Cissnei smiled as she pictured the girl in one of the top-tier institutions her father had no doubt picked out for her, her faded sweats and messy ponytail next to the likes of Rufus Shinra.

Well, the Rufus Shinra she had known when she was still with the company. He must have changed since then. Too old for business school, if nothing else.

"I think it's called 'administrative assistant' these days," she said before that train of thought could derail her smile.

"Ugh." Nina stuck out her tongue. "That sounds even worse."

"Now, now, play your cards right and you could rule the entire company," Cissnei quipped as she placed a cup and saucer on the counter. "Seriously, though… I don't think your dad would send you to business school just to save himself the trouble of hiring another assistant. Isn't it more likely that he wants you to join his company? Maybe take over one day?"

"Maybe, but I _don't_. I don't care about business deals and meetings, and… and _administration_!"

Cissnei smiled wryly as she leaned back against the wall. If only the girl had known what Shinra's Department of Administrative Research got up to.

"You just want to open up computers and poke at what's inside all day."

Nina sighed. "That's engineering, Ciss. It's computer science I want."

"You want to… make killer robots?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's _robotics_. Killer robots are overrated, anyway."

"Okay, okay," Cissnei said, laughing softy. "You want to do whatever it is you'll be doing with your computer sciencing."

"Exactly! Why can't he accept that?"

"It's a dad thing, I guess." She craned her neck to check the time from the ornate clock on the wall beside them. "At least he let you enroll for the program you wanted."

"It's not the one I _wanted_," the girl grumbled as Cissnei fetched the pot. "It's the only one he would accept, because it's here in Utgar."

"It's a start, though?" Holding the lid in place, Cissnei poured a stream of golden tea into the cup. "I'll bet that when he sees how well you do, he'll change his mind."

Nina gave a mirthless laugh.

"He's only going along with it because he thinks _I'll_ change my mind before the semester starts. He always thinks he knows best, even when it's something he doesn't know anything about! Sometimes I just want to…" With a groan of frustration she threw up her hands, missing her cup by a fraction of an inch.

"Leave?"

"As if he'd let me," she muttered.

Cissnei felt a pang for the girl. She had felt trapped too, once. Raised into the life that others had dictated for her.

But that wasn't something she could ever reveal to Nina – or anyone else, for that matter. Such was the price of her freedom.

"You'll figure something out." Cissnei nudged the cup a little closer to the girl. "Now drink your tea before you knock it over. I didn't make it just so you could spill it all over the counter."

Nina sighed and picked up the cup, steadying it carefully with both hands as she raised it to her lips.

"I'm sorry. I'm boring you again, aren't I? I don't mean to make it all about my problems." She paused to blow at the steaming surface. "I just don't have anyone else to talk to."

"Oh, come on, that's what tea was invented for. An excuse to meet up with friends so you can talk about–"

"Wait!" Nina exclaimed, her eyes big and round. "Did that come out wrong? I didn't mean to make that sound like– I mean, I'd come to talk to you even if I had other friends. I _like_ talking to you!"

"You're overthinking it," Cissnei said, trying to tone down the laughter in her voice. "It's okay, really. I know what you mean."

With a soft whine, Nina sagged back down onto her elbows.

"See? You're so easy to talk to. You always know what to say to people, even if it's someone you've never met before. I don't know how to do that. Everything I say comes out weird or wrong." She sighed again. "Or I just stand there and stare like an idiot because I can't think of anything to say."

An old resentment stirred. Of course she was good at it, Cissnei wanted to snap at the girl. She had been trained for it, year in and year out.

"It's a skill, just like any other," she said instead. "You'll get the hang of it, if you put in the practice." Why had she allowed the conversation to take a turn like this? The memories were circling the edges of her thoughts like a school of sharks.

"You mean just walk up to some stranger and start talking?" Nina pulled a face. "I think I'd rather stay a silent weirdo."

"Your call." Cissnei managed a grin, then pushed herself off the counter and brushed off her apron. "Well, I better get back to work."

"You do?" It sounded like the whine of a puppy. The girl looked like one too, with that pleading look in her big, blue eyes.

"Sorry. The owner dropped off a big box of books this morning and I need to get them shelved today."

Nina nodded glumly and lowered her head to stare into her cup instead.

"Just as well, I guess," she muttered. "Daddy called just before I came in. He wants me to drop by the office as soon as I can."

Cissnei raised her eyebrows and glanced at the cup in the girl's hands.

"So… you decided to drop in here for tea instead?"

Nina's shoulders twitched a shrug.

"He probably wants to hand me application forms for yet another business school. I'm in no hurry to see those."

Chuckling, Cissnei stepped out from behind the counter.

"Well, good luck with that. If you need anything else before you go, just ring the bell."

"Sure."

She felt a twinge of guilt at the disappointment in the girl's voice. It wasn't Nina's fault that she needed a break.

Well, Nina would be back. Cissnei would make it up to her next time.

* * *

The afternoon passed quietly. Cissnei polished the mirror behind the counter, one of the few additions she had made to the decor since her arrival in an attempt to brighten up the room – and to keep an eye on things while was preparing tea. She checked her makeup while she was at it; traced the slender arcs of her eyebrows with a fingertip; pursed her lips, idly wondering if she should have worn lipstick after all. She tucked each strand of her wavy auburn hair behind her ears, decided she didn't like it, and pulled it free to frame her face. She fussed with the phrasing of the specials menu she had chalked onto the blackboard beneath the clock, smoothed out the tablecloths on every table, adjusted the lace curtains. She even dusted the wooden window slats of the antique front door. When she got sick of tidying things that didn't much need to be tidied, she returned to the half-emptied box of books on the library floor.

She had put away only a couple of books when the doorbell jingled again.

"Ciss!"

She raised her eyebrows and glanced over her shoulder. It sounded like Nina – or what Cissnei presumed Nina would sound like if she ever raised her voice.

"In here." She turned around just as the girl scampered around the corner, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright with excitement.

"Oh my _gods_, you'll _never_ believe what–" Nina paused to gulp down air. "I mean… I want you to meet–" Again she cut herself off to suck in a deep breath.

"Woah, take it easy," Cissnei said, puzzled. "What's going on? Did you run here all the way from your dad's office?"

"Nah," a new voice cut in. "Just from the car down the street, yo."

Her mouth went dry. As she turned, her mind raced ahead, mentally searching for an exit even though she knew it was in vain. There was only one door in and out of the back rooms, and in that doorway he stood, leaning a shoulder against the frame. Tall and lanky, with his bright red hair and keen eyes fixed on her, he looked as though he had strolled in straight from her memories.

Reno of the Turks.


	2. A Disquieting Surprise

**2\. A Disquieting Surprise**

* * *

Cissnei couldn't stop staring. The same half-lidded gaze and the slight smile that reminded her of a lazy cat, the same red slashes under his eyes. It was uncanny how little he had changed, when it felt like half a lifetime ago that she had last seen him.

Reno looked over at the girl who had brought him in.

"This a friend of yours, Miss Nina?"

Shiva's breath. It was the same silky drawl, too.

Nina nodded eagerly, then turned back to Cissnei.

"This is Tino. You'll never guess who he is."

A lick of fear roused her from her memories. A false name had to mean a mission. _Who was the mark?_

Cissnei switched to a professional lens as she examined him again. A pair of jeans showing carefully calculated wear and tear, and a short-sleeved, black button-down, left open in the collar; both higher-end brands she would expect to see in bigger cities. Nothing odd about the lack of a Turk uniform, considering the false name. No visible weapons, but that didn't mean much; he never went unarmed in public.

The girl beside him was watching her expectantly, her big blue eyes bright with breathless excitement. Remembering her question, Cissnei blurted out the first thought that came to mind.

"Boyfriend?"

Nina went beet-red in the face.

"No!"

Reno chuckled; a soft rumble deep in his throat, almost like a purr. Even his laugh sounded exactly how she remembered it.

"He's my _bodyguard_," Nina hissed at her.

Cissnei blinked and tore her gaze away from him.

"What?"

"My bodyguard." Nina's giggle was more like a high-pitched squeal. "Can you believe it?"

"No," Cissnei managed. "I really can't."

Reno kept smiling, but his eyes narrowed a fraction. A warning. _Keep your mouth shut. Keep it casual_.

"Relax," he said out loud, "I ain't gonna search ya or anything." He took half a step forward and offered his hand. "Name's Tino, like Miss Nina said. And you are…?"

This, too, was a hint: _Play along_. Or else _what_, she couldn't help but wonder.

"Cissnei…" She glanced at the hand he offered her. "I'd shake your hand, but mine are occupied."

"Oh, no!" Nina's face turned a shade redder. "I forgot to introduce you, didn't I?"

"Don't worry 'bout it," Reno said, flashing her a grin as he let his hand fall. "We worked it out."

Cissnei gritted her teeth. All smiles and charm. Judging from the moony looks Nina was giving him, he had kept it up for a while, too.

The trill of a ringtone gave her a start.

"That'll be me," Reno announced and turned away, reaching into his pocket. "'Scuse me, ladies."

He strolled toward the parlor, but remained by the doorway as he answered the call. Cissnei wasn't surprised. Good lines of sight both front and back.

Now that the worst shock had passed, she did notice some differences. The rat tail he had been growing out when she left was gone, replaced by a more controlled version of the haircut he had sported in the early days. As he paced back and forth with his phone to his ear, he favored his left leg ever so slightly. Perhaps it was a recent injury, nothing to worry about – or it could be years old, from something severe enough to leave a permanent reminder.

"It has to be Daddy, again." Nina sighed beside her. Her fingers were twisting the drawstring of her hoodie again, back and forth. "It's his third call today."

"Your dad hired him," Cissnei guessed.

Nina nodded eagerly. "The whole thing was Daddy's idea. He picked Tino out for me."

"Really? Even though he looks so…"

"Wild? All those tattoos, right? Even on his face!" Nina was practically gushing. "And the way he stands and moves, like he's ready to punch anyone who looks at him wrong?"

"Something like that," Cissnei muttered.

"See, that's why Daddy picked him. He wanted someone who'll make all the college boys…" The girl cast another furtive look over her shoulder, and leaned closer. "_Pee themselves_," she whispered, then giggled as her cheeks turned pink.

Cissnei wasn't laughing. She knew she should, but she couldn't, not while he was _right there_, watching them out of the corner of his eye. He – _they_ – had found her. Just when she had begun to think she had gotten away with it.

"I didn't hear one peep about it until Daddy introduced us this morning," Nina chatted on, oblivious. "I should be mad at him, but to be honest… I don't mind all that much."

She stole another glance at Reno, biting her lip. It turned Cissnei's stomach.

"Why does your dad think you need a bodyguard?" she asked quickly, before the girl would see it in her face. "Seems like overkill for college boys."

Nina rolled her eyes. "Clearly you haven't met my dad. Did I tell you about the time he caught Seb from next door doing homework with me after school? He went _ballistic_. And we were both only eight at the time! Doing homework!"

As she listened to the girl's story, Cissnei tried to deduce the father's real motivations for it. A status thing, maybe. Or maybe it really was about boys, as in control over the ones Nina might meet, to make sure she didn't stray too far in her budding attempts at independence.

Well, if control was the goal, he couldn't have found a better candidate for the job than a Turk.

"So, can I get you two anything or did you just want to show him around?" _Show him off_ nearly rolled off Cissnei's tongue. She was slipping.

"Oh!" Nina exclaimed. "I brought a few books, but they're still in the car. I'll be right back!"

She scurried off toward the door just as Reno ended the call and put the PHS away.

"Hang on," he said. "You'll need these."

He pulled out a set of car keys from his pocket and dangled them off a finger. Nina froze, staring at them. With a broad smile he waggled his finger, like a fisherman tugging his line, and gingerly she stepped closer. Her hand trembled as she carefully slid the keys ring off his finger.

"Thanks," she squeaked, both cheeks blossoming red, and turned on her heel and fled.

As soon as the door jangled shut, Cissnei scoffed.

"You've got her right where you want her, don't you?"

"What? Just giving her the keys, yo."

He didn't even try to fake innocence; the smugness on his face made that clear. Clenching her jaw tight, she dropped the rest of the books into their box. The last thing she wanted was to play his slippery games. She set her shoulders and marched to the door, but when she tried to push past him he blocked her way. His fingers wrapped around hers.

"Didn't get to shake your hand before," he murmured, his lips mere inches from her face.

He didn't try to pull her closer; if he had, she might have recovered her senses and slipped out of his reach. Slowly, his thumb drew a gentle arc across the back of her hand. Cissnei's breath caught in her throat.

"Just look at you," he ran a finger along the frilly edge of the apron strap around her neck, "looking sweeter than sugar in this getup."

When his hand reached the top of her apron, hovering dangerously close to her chest, she finally snapped out of it and yanked herself free.

"I have work to do."

She sounded so breathless. Mortified, she barged past him and into the parlor. She had expected anger, suspicion. Not _this_, as if nothing had changed.

Reno followed her. Of course he did. He glanced around the parlor with feigned disinterest, but Cissnei knew he was checking the corners, mapping lines of sight, counting the exits. It was what she would do.

"Cute lil' place, this. Bit quiet, tho'."

At least he didn't try to muscle into her refuge behind the counter; instead he took a seat on the other side of it. He said nothing, but she could feel his eyes on her as she pretended to busy herself with the tins of tea.

"Not much of a bodyguard, are you?" she snapped when the silence became unbearable. "You're supposed to watch her, not me."

"I can see her just fine. She's right across the street, getting into the car."

Cissnei glanced up at the mirror on the wall. She saw Nina through the window, just like Reno said – and she saw him. He slouched over the counter, leaning on his elbows with his arms loosely folded in front of him. When their eyes locked, he smirked.

"The world's a funny place, huh? Who would've thought I'd run into ya in here, of all places?"

She narrowed her eyes. Was he toying with her? It'd be just like him.

And yet… Cissnei wasn't much of a believer in coincidences, but the alternative here made even less sense. If Reno had known how to hunt her down, why would he have waited this long? And the whole bodyguard thing… No, this wasn't about her. In the mirror, her gaze returned to Nina.

Cissnei turned around to face him head-on.

"Why are you here?" she demanded.

"Could ask you the same thing, yo."

His smirk didn't falter. Just a mask, then.

"I asked first," she said, biting off the words.

"Well," he drawled, "Lil' Miss Nina wanted to–"

She smacked her hands down on the counter. "You know what I mean!"

He didn't reply straight away. His face was unbearably close, his appraising stare so unnervingly direct, but she refused to look away.

"Can I count on ya?" he finally asked, his voice low.

Out of sheer surprise, Cissnei drew back. His crooked smile rose a fraction higher.

"That's what I thought." He pushed himself off the counter and spread his arms. "You heard the lady. I'm just the muscle her daddy hired to keep his girl outta trouble."

The door jangled. When she looked up, Nina gave her an awkward smile as she struggled through the door with a stack of books tucked in under her arm. Reno slid off his chair and met her halfway through the room.

"Here, lemme give you a hand."

"O-okay," she stammered as he plucked the stack out of her arms.

"Take them into the back," Cissnei said quickly, seeing an opportunity to talk to Nina alone.

"Don't you wanna check 'em out first?" Reno asked.

"I just need to know how many. It's the same price for every book."

"Right." He glanced at the girl, then back at her. "I'll just drop 'em in that box you got back there, yeah?"

"Sure."

"Thank you, Tino." Nina kept her eyes cast down, smiling shyly as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

It still felt odd to hear the girl speak in front of a third party, even if it was just a peep. Cissnei couldn't remember a single time Nina would have addressed anyone else in the tearoom of her own volition. All the more reason for a friendly warning.

"Are you sure about this?" Cissnei asked once the girl was at the counter, keeping her voice low. "There's something… dangerous about him."

"Oh no, don't let his looks fool you. He's been really nice to me." Nina glanced toward the back. "Like taking the books just now? On our way inside, he even held the door open for me."

She giggled. It was the third time she had done that since she had arrived. Cissnei smiled, even as she felt her stomach sink. Clearly Nina hadn't noticed the coldness in Reno's eyes just now, probably because he had still been smiling. The girl was hopeless. Cissnei would have hoped that a successful tycoon like her father would have had a keener eye for trouble than her – yet he was the one who had hired a Turk in the first place.

Cissnei sighed. She shouldn't blame either of them, not when it was Reno they were up against. He always figured out the right thing to say, the right way to act. With enough time and opportunity, he could charm the pants off of anyone.

_Even you_.

"You only met him a couple of hours ago," Cissnei warned. "You don't know him."

"Yeah, well… Neither do you!"

Nina had lowered her chin, glowering from beneath her eyebrows. Cissnei raised her hands, showing her palms. When the teenage petulance stirred, it was better to take a step back and try again later.

The unhurried rhythm of boots on wood heralded Reno's return. As he sauntered through the doorway, he checked his watch.

"Hate to break things up, Miss Nina, but we gotta get going. Promised your old man we'd get that application filled in before the post office closes."

Nina's face fell.

"Can't we do it here?" In her fingers, the drawstring of her hoodie coiled tighter and tighter.

"'Fraid not. Figured we'd get it done at the office, so I left all the paperwork there."

"Fine," she grumbled. With her head bowed, she trudged to the door.

"Wait," Cissnei called after her. "We haven't settled the payment."

"Oh, right." Nina thought a moment, then shrugged. "You keep it. I don't need it."

She turned to leave. Cissnei was about to call out her thanks when the girl spun around again.

"Oh, and bye!" She waved.

Before Cissnei could so much as raise her hand, the girl was out the door. Reno also paused at the door and gave a lazy salute.

"'Til next time."

The tinkling of the door bell petered out and left her alone in silence.

Cissnei hid her face in her hands and drew a shaky breath. Why now, after all these years? Of all the Turks, why _him_? She would have to think of something, and soon.

As she smoothed out her apron with unsteady hands, she realized something was inside the front pocket. A slip of paper, folded several times. All that was written on it was a phone number. She didn't recognize it, but the handwriting told her everything she needed to know. Even though she hadn't seen that scrawl for years, she knew exactly who it belonged to.

Cissnei scrunched up the note and threw it in the trash.

* * *

The parlor windows had never seemed so huge and exposed before. It only got worse once the light outside began to fade, making her every movement into a ghostly reflection in the glass. Cissnei flipped the sign on the front door to closed fifteen minutes early, and hurried through the final tasks of the day, scanning the darkening street through the window as she closed up.

On her way home, each passerby made her shoulders rise a little higher. She doubled back through narrow alleys, slipped into shadowy alcoves to wait with her ears pricked for footsteps. By the time she arrived at her apartment, it was dark. Cissnei cracked the door open just enough to peek in. Everything seemed still, so she snuck in and inched the door shut without a sound. With her back to the door, she listened intently for a few seconds, then switched on the lights and slid the safety chain in place.

In the living room, Cissnei curled up on the couch with her back against the corner and her arms around her knees. Staring at the front door, she drew one deep breath after another until her legs stopped shaking.

Reno was in Utgar. He had seen her.

_He touched you._

Cissnei spat a curse and buried her face in the crook of her arm. A handshake and a smile; how little it took to turn her new life upside down. He knew where she worked. It was only a matter of time before he snooped out where she lived. Or maybe he already knew. Maybe that was why he hadn't bothered to follow her home.

If he wasn't outside her building – _or in it_ – where was he? With Nina? Not likely, considering what Cissnei knew of the girl's father.

But Utgar was a small town, especially at this time of year. It shouldn't be too hard to figure out where he was staying. Start with the hotels and inns, maybe ask around about short-term rentals. And if that yielded nothing, a few of her regulars were the nosiest busybodies Cissnei had ever met. They were bound to hear something sooner or later.

And once she knew where he was staying, then what?

Then _nothing_. What did it matter where he was staying? She needed to _leave_.

But unless she intended to just walk out of Utgar, she also needed more funds than the few twenties in her purse. What little she had managed to save up had gone into the deposit for her apartment. Her landlord wouldn't give it back just because she asked nicely. Besides, rushing out in the middle of the night might do more harm than good. People knew her here; they would notice if she went missing. They might even help, if she played her cards right. Out on the road, anything could happen.

Cissnei closed her eyes and took a mental inventory of her apartment. Windows on the second floor only; two locked doors between her and the street below; a couple of neighbors who liked to stay up late. Nothing that would stop a Turk on a mission, but once she had rigged up a few precautions it would do until she had a plan.

Her mind made up, Cissnei rose from the couch to Turk-proof her windows.


	3. An Unrelenting Touch

**3\. An Unrelenting Touch**

* * *

After two days of looking over her shoulder, Cissnei spotted him first. Through the parlor windows she saw Reno stroll across the street, his hair glowing like a signal fire in the early afternoon sun. Nina was scampering at his side with her hands tucked deep into the front pocket of her hoodie.

What a pair they made. Her with hunched shoulders, trying to shrink into nothing; him taking up twice the space with his jutting elbows and swinging gait. The girl had traded the usual sweatpants for a pair of pale blue jeans; her once-white sneakers drowned in their wide legs. Next to Reno's gangster-chic big city look, she looked hopelessly out of date.

They were clearly heading for the tearoom, but Reno was unlikely to try anything with Nina around. All Cissnei had to do was to play the amicable hostess until they left. No more than half an hour's worth of acting. It would be a breeze compared to some of the other roles she had played in the old days.

When the pair entered the parlor, Cissnei had a pleasant smile ready for them.

"Hey there," she greeted. "Welcome back."

Nina responded with a shy smile.

"Hey yourself." Reno craned his neck, peeking toward the back. "Just us again, huh? You don't get much business, do ya?"

"Don't be so quick to judge, some days we get nearly a dozen customers." Pleased to have hit the note of breezy irony she had aimed for, Cissnei turned to the girl. "Speaking of, what can I get you?"

"Oh, nothing for us," Nina said. Her blonde hair hung free for once, long enough to brush her shoulders. "We were in the neighborhood and I thought I'd say hi." With an awkward laugh, she looked down at herself. "I'm shopping, actually."

"For clothes?" Cissnei guessed. "I thought you hated clothes shopping."

"I do," the girl admitted reluctantly, "but… Well, the semester will start soon! I need new clothes. Maybe it'll finally stop Daddy's nagging, too." She rolled her eyes, though it seemed more of an afterthought, as if it was a part of some script she had remembered and tacked on a tad too late.

"Not business suits, I hope?"

"Oh, gods no. Just jeans, t-shirts…" She stole a glance at Reno. "Maybe… a few nicer things."

"I see." Cissnei looked the man who strolled around the parlor, poking this and examining that. He didn't look their way, but she knew he was listening to every word.

Nina followed her gaze. As a blush spread onto the girl's cheeks, her fingers sought out the ratty drawstring of her hoodie.

"I, um… I guess we should get going. Talk to you later."

"You go on ahead," Reno said, finally turning their way. "I could use a drink."

Cissnei tensed. This wasn't part of the plan. He was supposed to be the girl's damned bodyguard.

It wasn't part of Nina's plan either, judging from the way her face fell.

"You're… not coming with me?"

"The shop you want is right there, ain't it?" He flicked his chin toward the window, indicating a small boutique across the street.

"Yes, but…" She shifted her weight, twisting the string in her hand.

"Don't worry." He winked. "I can watch you from here just fine."

Nina's entire face flushed red, all the way to the tips of her ears. She nodded quickly and scurried out the door.

"Don't stray too far now," he called after her, easily louder than the chiming of the doorbell.

As the bell's echoes died away, Reno sauntered up to the counter and took a seat. Cissnei watched silently, struggling to steady the rise and fall of her chest. The air seemed thicker with every breath.

"Was hoping for a call, y'know." He made it sound perfectly casual.

"Sorry. Lost your note."

The corner of his mouth rose in a wry smile.

"Did you now."

Past his shoulder, Cissnei saw Nina enter the boutique. He hadn't even bothered to make sure she crossed the road safely. The fake name, the lax attitude toward his so-called job, the prodding about whose side she was on; all told her one thing. Reno wasn't here to be a bodyguard for anyone. He was here as a Turk.

But had he come here for Cissnei alone, he could have found her at the tearoom at any time. He wouldn't have needed to bother with this charade. Something else was at play here.

So, why Nina of all people? What connections could someone like her possibly have? Or… maybe he was targeting someone close to her. What line of business was her dad involved in? International shipping, was it? Cissnei frowned. That didn't sound like Shinra's usual competition. Moreover, it just didn't make sense on any level. Nina's father was a millionaire and a local celebrity, sure, but he was small potatoes compared to the spheres Shinra operated in. Why would they bother?

Maybe she was wrong about Shinra's current situation. Meteor had changed many things. Had it brought Shinra low enough to make the likes of Nina's father a threat to them?

It was possible. Unlikely, but possible.

"You're thinking too hard, Ciss."

She started out of her thoughts. Reno was still watching her, now with half a grin on his face.

"You've lost your touch," he drawled. "The Turk I knew would never have let me see that much. She sure as hell wouldn't have stood there gaping like you did yesterday, either. I can read everything on your face, plain as day." As his eyes traveled down to her lips, he smiled wider. "_Everything_."

A warmth crept up along Cissnei's throat; mortified, she turned her back to him.

"Know what I can read?" She did her best to still the tremble in her voice. "Two days, and she's already head over heels for you."

Reno said nothing.

"She's barely eighteen," Cissnei spat.

"Calm down, will ya? Ain't like I've done anything."

"No? You're encouraging her, aren't you?"

She turned her head, just enough for a glimpse of his face. He was grinning.

"Ain't my fault that people find me irresistible."

She scoffed and looked away.

"You haven't changed. Still so fucking full of it."

"Am I?" The scrape of a chair, the muted thuds of boots on wood. "Ain't so long ago since you were one of those people."

"Keep fooling yourself." Her tone was almost right, but _almost_ was never good enough around Reno.

"Who's fooling who?"

He asked it so softly, like the gentle whisper of a lover. Cissnei swallowed hard. It had been so long since she had heard that voice from him.

His footfalls had nearly reached the end of the counter. Just a few more and he would see her face.

"If you're not going to order anything," she blurted, "then I have work to do."

She hurried past him, ducking his gaze, and slunk into the back. The box was still there, with a stack of books waiting to be shelved. Cissnei picked up a few of them and faced the nearest shelf, trying to look occupied.

It wasn't long before she heard his footsteps approach her.

"She's never had a boyfriend," she said, keeping her eyes fixed on the books she was aligning with unnecessary precision. "I don't think she's even had a crush before."

"This really about her?"

"Of course it is," she snapped, feeling her blush deepen. "You're going to break her heart."

"Oh, c'mon," he chuckled. "Since when do you care?"

In a flash of anger, she spun around.

"Since I quit the Turks and started living a normal life like a normal human being, with a normal sense of human decency!"

She glared at him, daring him to laugh again. He didn't, though. Not even the smirk remained.

"Did you, tho'? Really quit?"

The look on his face unnerved her. It was too contemplative, too serious for what he wanted people to see. It was too much like the real him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she muttered, hugging her armful of books to her chest.

"You _left_ 'cause old man Shinra and his board of assholes were out to get you. Out to get all of us. That don't mean you _quit_."

"Turks don't get to quit."

"It's different now. Shinra's different. You could come back. C'mon, don't tell me you don't miss it. The good ol' times with the gang?" He grinned and winked. "With me?"

She dropped her gaze. On his left arm, a spiky tail curved around his bicep and disappeared in under his sleeve. The tail end of a behemoth, she knew. She had kept him company while he got it inked on his skin after they had, somehow, managed to take one of the beasts down together after a job gone stunningly wrong. _So_ much swearing, that night. So much drinking, which had led to talking, then touching…

"If I wanted to come back," she said, trying her damnedest to keep her voice steady, "I would have done so by now. I didn't want you to find me."

"If you didn't want to be found… why didn't you try to hide?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked again, even as she knew what he would say.

"Same hair…" His eyes traveled down her body. "Same style, under that frilly fucking thing. You didn't even change your name."

"I didn't keep them for you."

His eyes snapped back up to hers.

"I missed you. I waited for you."

Cissnei's stomach lurched. She snorted to cover her discomfort.

"Oh, please. Since when do you wait for anyone?"

"I _waited_," he repeated. "For a call. A message. For fucking _something_."

That queasy feeling in her gut grew stronger.

"Then why didn't you come looking for me?" she snapped. "You claim I wasn't trying to hide, so you should have found me if you'd ever bothered to look."

His eyes narrowed.

"Guess I went looking in all the wrong places. The cabin out in the grasslands. The fishing village near Gongaga, with all those boardwalk paths. That lil' inn we'd stay at up north. You could've gone to any of those places… if it was just Shinra you were hiding from."

Each suggestion felt like a jab to the chest. Why did he have to be so _right_?

"I didn't want to just hide," she spat. "I wanted a new _life_."

"One without me, huh?"

Cissnei averted her face. She should have just said yes; made it quick, like ripping off a bandage. But the lie wouldn't come.

He raised his hand, and even though she knew better, she let him touch her cheek. The heat of his skin, the gentle pressure of his fingers as he guided her face back to him; she let herself soak in it, let it spread throughout her being and fill all those empty corners she had ignored for far too long.

Her gaze finally locked with his. The shop's warm-tinted light gave a greenish tinge to the blue of his eyes. It made them seem subtly odd, subtly different, but the bare emotion in them was one she knew so well.

"This place," he murmured. "This job, this whole new life of yours… It ain't you. It never will be."

"You don't know that," she whispered. Her eyes were brimming, but she couldn't look away.

His thumb stroked her chin, skimmed along the edge of her lower lip.

"I know you."

In the soothing heat of his caress all seemed forgiven, as if his touch alone could banish the years between them. He bent down, bringing his face closer inch by slow inch, until she could feel his breath on her skin. Against her better judgement, she let her eyes fall shut.

The doorbell jangled softly. Cissnei gasped and jumped back, her heart thrumming as if startled by the blare of a siren.

"You should go," she mumbled as she pushed past him.

It wasn't Nina, but a new customer who was already flipping through the tea menu. Cissnei straightened out her apron as she slipped in behind the counter, and hoped that the smile she gave him didn't look as stiff as it felt.

"Hi there. What can I get you?"

Before the man could answer, Reno came skulking out from the back, his chin low and his jaw tight. He threw them both dark looks as he passed the counter. Cissnei refused to meet them head on, and held her breath until the front door slammed shut behind him.

"Everything all right?" the customer asked once the wild ringing of the bell had died down.

"Yes. Everything's fine." She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it felt all wrong.

"Are you sure?" He glanced over his shoulder. "That guy just now… He seemed pretty intense."

Her cheek tingled, as hot as if Reno's touch had set it on fire. She pushed down the urge to cover it with her hand.

"He didn't like our return policy, that's all."

* * *

The day finally came to an end. Back at her apartment at last, Cissnei shoved the door open. She threw her purse into a corner, kicked off her shoes. They thudded dully against the wall, but the sound brought her no satisfaction. Her fists clenched and opened, eager to wrap around something, to cut through the air and land a punch. How dare Reno show up like that, pretending to know what was best for her? How _dare_ he?

A life free of Shinra, _that_ was what she wanted. The freedom to make the choices she wanted, to go anywhere and do anything. How could she trust him when he claimed that Shinra had changed? _He_ hadn't changed, that much was clear. He would never understand her fear of getting sucked back into that kind of life, because it was _his_ kind of life. Reno was Reno of the Turks, then and always.

_Don't tell me you don't miss it. The good ol' times with the gang?_

She stalked into her living room. In front of her was her plush blue couch sized for three. To her left, her dining table and its four chairs. What a joke it was, all of it. Since she had moved in three years ago, no one else had set foot in her apartment.

Reno would have brought people home to fill every one of those seats and then some. He would have taken up the whole couch by himself, with his long legs dangling over the side.

He would have claimed most of the double bed, too.

With a groan of frustration, Cissnei turned on her heel. She thrust her feet into a pair of sneakers, snatched a hoodie off the coat rack, and stomped back out into the night.

The streets had quieted. As she marched toward Utgar's main street, she saw only a handful of people. Now that the sun was nothing but a pale yellow strip on the horizon, the air felt cool and clammy on her face. It wouldn't be long before the evening mist would drift in from the sea. The cobblestones were already getting slippery under her feet.

Upon reaching the main street – one of the few paved roads the town had to offer – Cissnei turned to the waterfront. The street sloped gently toward the water, revealing a narrow glimpse of the sea ahead. As she walked, she watched little white wisps form on the dark, smooth surface of the water. A manufactured calm, she knew. Even from this distance, she could hear the muted roar of waves crashing against the breakwaters on either side of the harbor.

Near the docks, she veered off the road. A path wound its way up to the crest of the cliffs, carved into the steep hillside by countless pairs of feet over the centuries. Once she had cleared the last building, a field of stubborn knee-high grass spread out on all sides of her. Anyone standing upright was visible at a glance, but she didn't bother to check for a tail. If Reno wanted to follow her up to the cliffs at this time of night, he was welcome to try. It had taken her months to figure out how to navigate the path safely after sundown.

As she reached the top of the cliffs, Cissnei zipped her hoodie all the way up. The summer sun could only do so much on the northern coast, even at its highest. At this time of night its warmth had faded to nothing, while the breeze had gathered strength and brought in a chill from the sea. Far below, the waves beat their ceaseless rhythm against the cliffs. She walked right up to the edge, closed her eyes, and let the sound roll over her. Brutal in its force, unyielding and relentless. It may have been a different coast than the one she had listened to as a kid, but the rumble of the waves was the same. The sea never changed.

Unlike people – or so she had thought. Reno hadn't. Not in any way that mattered.

The good old times, he had said. Cissnei scoffed. What good old times? She remembered being scared and tired, and being _so fed up_ with being scared and tired all the time. When she saw the chance to get out, she had seized it in a heartbeat, and she would make the same choice again.

Yet she found no peace in that certainty. If she would do it all again… could she really claim to have changed at all?

She opened her eyes. Just past her toes, the cliff fell away into an inky abyss. White sprays stood out against the darkness; a mere hint of the violence below. Her heart pounded faster and faster, until her mouth felt dry. Would a normal person come up here in the middle of the night and stare certain death in the face, just to feel alive?

It wasn't the answer to that question that frightened Cissnei. It was the fact the she had no answer to give.


	4. A Tangled Web

**4\. A Tangled Web**

* * *

The bell above the parlor door trilled in the wake of a leaving customer. Cissnei had the tearoom to herself. As she headed into the back, she paused a moment to check her hair in the mirror behind the counter. The little bun of copper hair was still there at the nape of her neck, but she raised a hand to feel the tension with her fingers. She had only used this style for a couple of days and her hair was too wavy for her to trust that it would behave.

She lifted her gaze and checked the street outside through the mirror, too. It was one of her stubborn habits from the old days, though for the past week she had scanned for a very particular target. Any glimpse of red trapped her breath in her throat, and any man who was tall and lanky enough made her tense up. When it wasn't Reno – and it never was – it was as much frustration as it was relief. She hated waiting.

The street was clear; Cissnei headed into the back to deal with yet another box of books in need of shelving. As she delved in between bookshelves taller than herself, the aromatic potpourri of the teas she had brewed surrendered to the scents of lacquered wood and old paper. It reminded her of the archives in the bowels of Shinra HQ. If one dared to venture deep enough, the metal filing cabinets gave way to wooden bookshelves much like these, full of musty old ledgers and binders. They had snuck in there a few times, just the two of them. No security cameras in the back of–

With a start Cissnei realized she was stroking the back of her fingers along her cheek. She was even standing in the same spot she had that day, when she had felt the caress she was so mindlessly mimicking now. The warmth of his touch wouldn't go away, no matter how much she rubbed or scrubbed.

She scoffed and lifted out a stack of books from the box. Nothing but ghosts in her head now, all of it. She turned around–

–and with a gasp, she jumped back. Reno was leaning against a shelf only a few feet away, with his thumbs tucked into his pockets and a crooked smirk on his face.

"Shiva's breath!" Cissnei hissed, fumbling to regain control over the sliding stack of books in her arms. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not too long," he said breezily.

The cheek she had touched felt hotter already. She made some frantic calculations, trying to work out lines of sight. Damnit, why had she tied her hair back? Falling free as before, it would have hidden her telltale caress.

Reno craned his neck, peering at her head.

"New hair, huh?"

The bell above the parlor door hadn't made a sound. He had snuck up on her on purpose, to catch her off guard. For what? To send a message? To push her off balance before their conversation, make her more susceptible to manipulation?

Cissnei realized her hand had already snuck halfway up to her bun and forced it back down. Reno didn't need to see her anxious fidgeting. He read body language as easily as she read books.

"It's very 'old lady who's into tea and doilies'," he continued, "but I guess that's what you were going for. Gotta try something to fit in better, right?"

The disdain in his smile turned her stomach. He had already read too much.

"I wear it like this all the time," she lied. "You're the only one who's complained."

He pushed himself off the shelf and swaggered closer. He was wearing another short-sleeved shirt, made from a shiny black fabric that was stark against his pale skin. Cissnei didn't like it. It was unnervingly familiar.

"Y'know, I don't get it. Why'd you let yourself end up in this hole of a town, working a dead-end job like this?" Reno's crooked smile rose higher as he made a show of looking around. "Ain't the excitement, that's for damn sure. Can't be the gil, either."

"Of course you don't get it," she muttered, clutching the books to her chest. "You had a life before Shinra."

He snorted. "Yeah, and it fucking sucked."

"Well, Shinra was all that I ever knew, and guess what? It sucked, too! This might not be glamorous, but at least it's the life I chose for myself."

"Oh, c'mon!" He spread his arms to take in the room at large. "Don't tell me this is what you _chose_ when you left, 'cause no way in hell am I buying that."

"I have a home," she said, biting off the words. "A job. Friends. It's enough."

Reno stared at her, disbelief plain on his face, until he burst into laughter.

"Friends? Like that girl Nina? I asked her 'bout you, y'know. 'Bout what you like to do in the evenings, what you like to have for dinner, your favorite show." He flicked the spine of a book on the nearest shelf. "Your favorite book." When he turned back to her, his amusement was gone. "She didn't know a damn thing about you. Hell, she didn't even know your favorite color!"

"And you think you do?"

"Blue," he said without a moment's delay. "You love cottage pie with mushrooms from that lil' pie shop in Four. Strawberries with that weird-ass yoghurt they make over in Kalm. The sound of the ocean at night when no one else is around."

Anger flashed hot across her face, and not because he was wrong.

"What the hell is that supposed to prove?" she spat. "You waltz in here, acting like nothing's changed–"

"What's changed?" he exclaimed, his voice raw with frustration.

"It's been _years_, Reno!"

"So? I'm the same guy as I was back then." He placed his hands on his chest. "I'm still _me_."

"_I'm_ not the same," she hissed. Angry was good, she reminded herself. Angry was easier.

"So, that's it?" His hands slumped to his sides. "I'm just… nothing to ya now?"

Yet angry didn't feel easy when he was looking at her like that. Maybe it would, if he was angry too.

"You can't give me what I want," she said, switching to an icy calm. "You never could."

Reno froze. He just stared at her, with such a crestfallen look in his eyes that Cissnei wished she had never said anything at all.

Then he lowered his chin, and a shadow fell across his face. With measured steps he stalked closer, until he was looming over her.

"Maybe so," he said, his voice dangerously low, "but I can tell Tseng where to find you."

Cissnei drew a startled breath. What little control she had over the conversation was slipping away, but she couldn't back down, not when his stare was burning into her, unblinking, relentless. She made herself meet it head on.

"You're wrong, you know," she said, struggling to maintain that frosty calm. "You _have_ changed."

"A Turk gets the job done," he said slowly, "no matter what it takes. And if I can't count on you…"

Still he towered over her. Her chest felt too tight. She couldn't breathe.

No, she couldn't let him win so easily. She had been a Turk, too. She knew how to play this this game. Doubling down her icy facade, Cissnei pushed the panic aside and mustered a glare.

"I could tell Nina what you are."

Slowly, the smirk returned to his face.

"You won't," he said as he took a step back. "Because then I'll have to get the job done the hard way."

"Same old Shinra games, huh?" She wanted to laugh, but she didn't trust her voice to stay steady. "This is what you expect me to return to?"

"Think I'm here to make trouble just for shits and giggles?" Even though he was smiling, his voice still held that cold edge of danger. "Think again. If anyone's here for that, it's the other side. I'm the one who's gotta fix things before it gets worse."

As soon as she mentioned Nina he had backed off. It had to mean he needed his cover, but who was in his sights? Nina's father? Cissnei's heart sank. What would such a shy, awkward girl do without her father and his gil?

"Fix them… the Shinra way?" she asked.

"That's up to them."

Reno backed away until he was well out of her reach, then turned and stalked out. As soon as he was out of view, Cissnei could breathe again. She pushed a hand through her hair, only to get her fingers tangled up in it. She swore and yanked out the hairband, letting her hair fall free.

The door bell jangled; Reno had left, and wanted her to know it. She dropped the books she had been holding back in their box. Her arms felt sore after clutching them for so long, and she didn't feel much like shelving anymore. What she wanted was a wall at her back and clear view of anyone approaching.

When Cissnei entered the parlor, the new man by the counter gave her a start. He looked none too pleased, though his frown was directed at the front door, not at her.

"Sorry for the wait," she said as she hurried in behind the counter. "What can I get you?"

"That guy again?"

Cissnei did a double take. The man was in his late thirties or early forties, gray denim jacket over a white t-shirt, cropped dark hair, more of a glorified stubble than a beard. He stood out from her usual customers, which was why she remembered him. He had popped in earlier that week – just in time to witness the aftermath of Reno's previous visit.

"I'm so sorry." Her laugh sounded shrill in her ears. "It's not always like this, I swear."

The man glanced at the door again, even though Reno was long gone.

"He looked pretty pissed off. You sure he isn't giving you trouble?"

"It's nothing I can't handle." Her smile was beginning to hurt her face. "Now, what can I get you?"

The man kept frowning.

"I know it's none of my business, but this seems a bit more… personal than a disgruntled customer."

"I said I'll handle it!"

Cissnei spat it out before she could stop herself. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry. That was uncalled for. I'm just a little…"

"You know…" He looked around, scanning the empty chairs and tables. "I could sit here a while, read a book maybe. Just in case he decides to come back."

Her first instinct was to dissuade him, but the thought of having to fend off the arguments of yet another meddling man was exhausting.

"Sure," she said and conjured up her customer-service smile. "Thanks."

"No problem." He smiled, too. "Maybe you could help me pick out a book?"

She left him in the "Hunting & Fishing" section and returned to the parlor to brew his choice of tea. He returned a few minutes later, armed with a book on local big game, and staked his claim on one of the window tables. Cissnei served his pot of tea along with some excuse about needing to do some shelving, and left him to his reading. Thankfully, the man didn't bother her again until he asked for the check.

* * *

Cissnei woke up with a headache the next day, no doubt from the constant tension in her shoulders. Fortified with painkillers, she dragged herself in to work. The morning was mercifully quiet, and by noon she had the tearoom to herself. She cleaned away the cup and saucer left by the last customer and brought them to the backroom. After placing the dishes in the sink at the far end of the room, she flopped down on the chair near the door and crossed her arms on the ironing board beside it, leaning heavily on her elbows. As weary as her eyes felt, she kept them open and fixed on the door. As her mind strayed back to the events of the previous day, her fingers curled into fists.

Each time she thought of Reno wound her up a little more. It wasn't just his threats – how_ dare _he? – but every time their conversation replayed in her head, she spotted yet another mistake or missed opportunity on her part. Why hadn't she asked what kind of trouble Reno was here for, or who "they" were? Who was this "other side"? What had they done?

With a groan, she dropped her head onto her arms. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She was losing her touch.

A yawn surprised her. Her head felt heavy, her mind dull. Last night hadn't been the first one she had spent awake, planning her escape. She hated that, too. What right did he have to show up out of nowhere and turn her life upside down? He was history; any halfway decent man would have have had the civility to remain that way.

The ringing of the doorbell cut her wallowing short. With a halfhearted curse Cissnei dragged herself up and smoothed out her hair and apron on her way into the parlor.

It was the man from the day before, the one with the stubble and denim jacket. Apparently she had a new regular on her hands.

"Back so soon?" she asked, smiling as she slipped in behind the counter. "I must be doing something right."

The man chuckled; a raspy sound to match his gravelly voice.

"It's nice and quiet in here. I like that. Besides, the wife always says I should read more." His smile soured. "Well… Ex-wife."

"Sorry to hear that." Cissnei softened her voice for a touch of compassion. Not too much, not too little; she may have let some of her former skills waste away, but she had played the sympathetic ear ever since her first day at the Ink & Tea.

"Don't worry about it. It was bound to happen sooner or later." He sighed and looked around; Cissnei got the impression it was mostly to avoid her gaze. "Do you still have that book I was reading last time?"

"Sure, it's just around the back. I haven't had the time to put it away yet."

She turned to leave, but he held up his hands.

"Don't worry, I'll get it. In the mean time, could you make me a pot of that tea I had last time?"

"Autumn Sunrise? You got it."

She kept smiling until he had disappeared into the library. So Sunrise Guy was divorced, and likely looking for an easy way to get back in the game. Cissnei sighed as she spooned tea into a pot. No wonder he was coming in so often. Nothing like a captive, politely smiling audience to boost the ailing confidence of a recent divorcee.

Well, so be it. She could add flirty banter to her range of services, as long as it meant a decent tip.

Cissnei had just poured hot water into the pot when the bell jingled again; she glanced up to see a blonde woman come in. A polite greeting was right at the tip of her tongue, when a flash of red behind the woman made her do a double take.

It wasn't just some blonde woman, it was _Nina_. Her hair flowed free past her shoulders, held back from her face with a few clips. She wore makeup. She wore a fitted blouse – and she had _boobs_, Cissnei noted with a sting of envy. She had never known the girl – no, the _woman_ – was hiding such a curvy figure under all those hoodies and sweatpants.

"Wow," Cissnei managed, remembering her role. "Look at you. I'm speechless."

As Nina approached the counter, tittering, Reno trailed in behind her. One corner of his mouth curved upwards, but it wasn't a real smile. It wasn't even the usual poker face he wore on the job; she could see it in the tilt of his chin and the dark glint in his eyes when he looked at her. This smirk covered something far more sinister than boredom.

"Thought I'd try something new," Nina said. "What do you think?"

She was trying so hard to sound casual, even though her eyes were alight with excitement. Reno's blasé attitude was rubbing off on her, Cissnei guessed. Now that Nina was standing by the counter, Cissnei got a better look at her. Her pastel blue shirt was a perfect cut, likely fitted by a tailor. Her makeup was understated, but something about it kept distracting Cissnei. It took effort to keep herself from staring at Nina just to figure it out.

"I barely recognize you. When did all this happen?"

"Oh, little by little over the past week." Nina nudged her hair with her fingers, aiming for an unaffected air despite her visibly pink cheeks. Even her nails were manicured. "I got tired of always looking the same."

It was her eyebrows, Cissnei finally realized. They had always been thick by nature, but blonde enough that it had never been noticeable. Now they were plucked slim and sharply angled, dyed a few shades darker. Her eyelashes were darker too, her lips pink and glossy. Likely a professional job. Nobody could pull off such a subtle natural look without a lot of practice.

Tailors, fashion advisors, makeup artists… This kind of makeover didn't come cheap.

"Did you dad put you up to this?" Cissnei guessed.

Nina's coy smile dissolved into a pout, and just like that, the woman transformed back to a girl.

"No," she muttered. "It was my idea."

"But… why? Don't get me wrong, you look amazing, but… this is such a huge change."

"Well, maybe I want a huge change." She picked up a napkin and rolled it up as she spoke. "I was just thinking that I'll be meeting a lot of new people soon, start on a degree… Maybe I should look the part. Like the grownup I'm supposed to be, you know?"

It sounded plausible, but the girl's furtive peek at Reno exposed it for the lie it was. A dark fury welled up in Cissnei, locking her jaw tight. She pinned him with a glare, but his smirk only rose higher. Had the makeover really been Nina's idea, or was this some sort of sick revenge on Reno's part? He knew how to plant a seed like that, so subtle and deep that his marks thought they had come up with the idea themselves.

He knew how reap the rewards, too. If Nina really was dancing to his tune… how far was he willing to take it?

Oblivious to their wordless exchange, the girl leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper.

"Do I? Look the part?"

_You'll never get him this way_, the bitter side of Cissnei wanted to spit in her face. _You're just a job to him. Just a tool to use and put back in the drawer._

But Reno was right there watching her; and she had a customer in the other room; and little Nina was twisting the napkin as if she was trying to wring the life out of it, too anxious to look at Cissnei as she waited for a reply.

"You look great," she made herself say instead. "You'll be turning heads left and right when you walk onto campus, I guarantee it."

A smile blossomed on Nina's face.

"Really?"

"I promise." Cissnei forced a smile and patted the girl's arm. "Now, what can I get you?"

The creak of a floorboard made Nina flinch. Both she and Cissnei looked over as Sunrise Guy wandered in from the back with a book in his hand. His eyes stayed firmly on the redhead slouching by the door, who met the challenge with a snide little smile.

"Sorry, I-I didn't… Um, we should go." Nina kept glancing sideways at the newcomer as he took a seat at the nearest table. "Just came in for a quick hi, really. So, um, hi? And… bye."

It wasn't the tension between the two men that changed Nina's demeanor; Cissnei suspected the girl hadn't even picked up on it. Nina had never been very comfortable in front of others, that was all. A makeover could only do so much.

Someone as socially oblivious as her would be so easy to manipulate, but that went both ways. If only Cissnei could have some time alone with the girl, she could figure out what was going on. Time neither of them might have if Reno made good on his threats.

"Come back soon, okay?" she told the girl. "It's been so long since we've had a chance to catch up."

With a nod, Nina scurried out through the door that Reno held open for her. Cissnei could only hope the girl would take her up on the offer soon. She wasn't planning on staying in town for long, not with Reno skulking in every shadow.

"Back again, huh?" The gravelly voice of Sunrise Guy pulled her from her thoughts. "At least he kept his mouth shut this time."

With a sinking feeling, she realized he was right. Reno hadn't said a single word. As far as bad signs went, that was one of the worst.

"Guess he's on his best behavior in front of her," she muttered as she lifted the lid off the pot she had forgotten she was brewing for him. Fortunately the visit had been short; the tea was still a pleasant golden brown.

"The mousy girl?" he asked. "Are they together?"

"I don't know," she lied as she filled a tray with his order. "It hasn't come up."

"But you've seen them together before?"

"A couple of times." Cissnei set the tray down on his table and placed a cup and saucer in front of him. "She brings books in for sale now and then."

"Yeah? Is she the one who brought in those big, fat tech manuals back there?"

She snorted. "Tech manuals?"

The man shrugged and grabbed the pot from her tray.

"She seems like the geeky type," he said as poured himself a cup. "You know, good with computers."

The Nina who had come in today hadn't been particularly mousy, nor geeky. Maybe he had visited before that first run-in with Reno and seen her work on her laptop? Cissnei racked her brain, trying to place him, but came up empty. She could have asked, of course, but her old training reared its head and warned her to keep such questions to herself. They might reveal, or confirm, too much.

"Sorry," she said out loud. "I don't make a habit of gossiping about other customers."

"Oh, right. Sorry about that." He gave her an apologetic grin. "For a second there I forgot you work here. You're so easy to talk to, you know?"

She faked a giggle.

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

"If I shouldn't ask what she likes to read…" He set down the pot and leaned back in his seat, his hands loosely clasped over his stomach. "Maybe I can ask what _you_ like?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. I'm more interested in your answer, anyway."

He smiled up at her, his face sincere and open, but her old instincts were still fired up. She needed time to think, to find her footing again.

"You know what?" she said, picking up the tray. "I'd love to, but I left something in the oven in the back. I'd better go check on it first."

"I'll be waiting."

In the back, Cissnei unlocked the staff room door with unsteady hands. As soon as it clicked shut behind her, she sank down on the chair and covered her face. A tide of panic swelled inside her, its currents pulling her in one direction only to spin her around in the blink of an eye. On the job she had always kept it together, because the goal had always been sharp and clear: finish the mission. This sorry mess held too many unknowns, too many possibilities. Should she run? Stay and help Nina? Figure out a way to deal with Reno once and for all? All of her options were risky. None of them were good.

She had to sort out her priorities. Once she had those figured out, she would know her goal; but until then, she would have to take things one step at a time. That was all she could do. One step at a time. One step at a time.

Cissnei chanted it in her head until her breaths were slow and steady again. She spent a few moments practising a suitable explanation in case Sunrise Guy was curious – the kitchen corner in the staff room had a stove with an oven, but it had never been used during her tenure – then made herself presentable and returned to the parlor.

Sunrise Guy's chair was empty. Several crisp bills waited by his half-finished cup of tea, tucked into a folded slip of paper. After a quick glance around the shop, Cissnei opened the note. Inside was a phone number, followed by a few lines of tidy handwriting.

_Sorry, something came up. If Red comes back to cause trouble, give me a call.  
\- Adam_

She stared at the note. It was a coincidence, it had to be. Her old nickname for Reno was hardly obscure. But, compounded with everything else…

No, it _was_ a coincidence. The hair was the first thing anyone noticed about Reno; "Red" was an obvious choice. A makeover hadn't changed Nina's behavior; under the new clothes and the makeup she still behaved like an awkward geek. That damned Turk was making Cissnei suspect everyone and everything.

But the gnawing in her stomach wouldn't go away. Even if Sunrise Guy – Adam, she corrected – was just another customer, he was hardly the only one with access to the tearoom. Someone pretending to be a customer browsing books could wander around the library unsupervised. Someone who knew what they were doing could even sneak past the bell on the front door without alerting her at all; Reno had proven that.

Cissnei narrowed her eyes. Why was she worrying about some random customer off the street when a_ Turk_ had already intruded on the tearoom on several occasions? Reno could come and go as he pleased, day or night. He could hide cameras, plant bugs. It would be easy.

With a groan, Cissnei hung her head. Now that the thought had popped into her head, it would never leave her alone. She would have to do a sweep just for her peace of mind.

She started with the backroom; it was a small, contained space that she kept locked, and was thus the easiest to clear. She had just finished a fruitless sweep when the ringing bell summoned her back to the parlor. The afternoon kept her busy; she didn't get a chance to continue her work until closing time.

Cissnei searched the parlor as she went through her usual evening duties. She peeked under the tables after removing the tablecloths and checked the chairs. She ran her fingers under the windowsills, and did the same with the lip of the countertop as she wiped it down. She nudged the clock off the wall and peered in behind it – and froze. A flat silver cylinder, about the size of a 2-gil coin but three times as thick, was taped to the back of the clock. At a quick glance, it would have been easy to mistake for a part of the clock mechanism.

Cissnei's heartbeat roared in her ears. Holding her breath, she set the clock back down and tiptoed in behind the counter. She returned with a cup of water, peeled off the tape, and dropped the cylinder into the cup. It sank to the bottom like a gleaming stone. She tilted the cup back and forth, taking in all sides of the device as it rolled around the bottom. No markings, except for a few seams and a round grouping of holes on one end. It wasn't a model she recognized, but she had been out of the game for years. It was only to be expected that the Turks had upgraded their tech.

A loud banging made Cissnei jump. She hissed out a curse when she realized it was just someone at the front door, but as soon as she turned around her anger evaporated. It was Nina, pounding on the door with both fists. A chill spilled into Cissnei's gut when she saw the sheer panic on the girl's face, and she rushed to the door and flicked the locks open. As soon as she unlatched the door Nina barged in, pushing them both into the room.

"Help me," she whimpered, latching onto Cissnei's arms. "Please, you have to help me! He's going to kill me!"


	5. And So It Comes Undone

**5\. And So It Comes Undone**

* * *

Nina clung to Cissnei's arms as she ushered them both into the parlor. Red in the face, she heaved in each breath as if she had just run all the way across town.

"You've got to help me!" She cast a skittish look over her shoulder. "H-he's one of them!"

Cissnei checked the windows on either side of the door. The shadowy street was hard to make out through their reflections in the glass, but as far as she could tell it was empty.

Nina was still pushing her back, babbling out one plea after another.

"Whoa, easy there." Cissnei dug in her heels and grabbed the girl's elbows, hoping the touch would ground her. "One thing at a time, okay? Who is 'he'?"

"Reno! I-I mean Tino! He's not a real bodyguard!"

Cissnei's stomach dipped.

"Who told you that?"

"No one _told_ me, I–" As Nina's gaze sank to the floor, her face crumpled. "Oh Ciss," she whimpered. "I did something bad."

"Hey, deep breaths," Cissnei urged, projecting a calm she most certainly didn't feel. "One… Two…" On three she inhaled deeply, and smiled as the girl made an effort to follow her example. "I'm sure it's not as bad as you think. Just tell me everything and we'll figure something out, okay?"

_"That's the best damn idea I've heard all day."_

Cissnei whipped her head up just in time to see Reno materialize from the shadows at the front door, which had been left both unlocked and ajar in the girl's rush to get inside. Nina squealed and jumped back – she would probably have made a run for it had Reno not blocked the only exit. He strolled in and closed the door behind him. With a single finger, he slid the deadbolt into place.

"What have you done?" Cissnei demanded.

"Nothing," he said breezily, then smirked. "Yet."

His eyes flicked across her in the usual check – face, hands, items within her reach. Without taking his eyes off the pair of them, he wandered over to the nearest table and sat down. He gestured to the chair on the other side of the table.

"Take a seat, Nina. Let's chat."

With a hot flash of irritation, Cissnei stepped in front of the girl.

"Cut it out," she spat at Reno. "Think you can just walk in and order us around? This is _my_ tearoom, _my_ workplace. You can't just barge in here and do whatever you want!"

"No, don't," Nina whimpered under her breath. "You don't know what he is!"

"Whatever he is," Cissnei growled, "he's not welcome here. Not after pulling stunts like this." She picked up the mug with the microphone in it and smacked it down on his table.

Reno had merely raised his eyebrows at her outburst, eyes twinkling, but he leaned down to peer into the mug. His squint turned into a frown.

"That ain't mine."

He kept his voice low. When he looked up at her, all traces of amusement had vanished from his eyes. Cissnei's face went cold.

"What is that?" Nina asked. She was still hovering by the counter, keeping her distance.

"Nothing you need to worry about." Reno scanned the room as he spoke. Cissnei knew what he was looking for; a single bug was never enough.

"Look, I think we all need to take a deep breath and calm down, okay?" she added quickly, racking her brain for a way to get the girl on the same page. "Let's just–"

"No! You can't listen to him! He's a Turk! A Shinra Turk!"

Nina's accusation rang loud and clear. Cissnei turned her head to the windows; out of the corner of her eye she saw Reno do the same. She couldn't see much of the street; their reflections in the glass blocked the view. With the lights on inside, they were on full display to anyone outside.

"Come on." She grabbed Nina's arm and turned her toward the back. "Let's continue this in the–"

The window behind them blew inward in a glittering explosion. Reno, halfway out of his chair, jerked violently. With a shout of pain, he hit the floor hard. Cissnei threw herself behind the counter, pulling Nina with her. She landed poorly on her knees and elbows, but gritted her teeth and scrambled around. Through the open end of the counter, she could see Reno's feet. He was still on the ground.

"Reno!"

He groaned something, but she couldn't make out the words. Cissnei's hand went to her wrist, checking for her bracelet.

"D-did they kill him?" Nina's voice was thin as a thread.

"He's alive, but hurt." She pulled back her sleeve and showed her bracelet to the girl. "I have a Cure. I just need to get to him."

"You can't! They'll shoot you too!" Nina clasped her arm tight. "Please, let's just leave!"

"We _can't_. The shooter's out there." Despite Cissnei's efforts to stay calm, her voice was rising. Reno was down, and Nina wanted to _leave_? "Who are _they_, anyway?"

"I-I don't know," the girl wailed. "It could be so many people!"

"Are they after Reno? After your dad?"

Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I-I think… it's me."

"_You_?"

"Please, let's just leave!" Nina tugged on her arm. "I'll tell you later, I promise!"

"If we leave without Reno, he's as good as dead," Cissnei hissed, pulling her arm free. "Now stay quiet. They can hear you!"

The girl stammered something, but Cissnei ignored her and crept to the edge of the counter for a better look. Across the room, Reno sat slumped against the wall, tucked into the few inches of cover offered by one of the alcoves. He kept his hand pressed against his stomach, his fingers red with blood. Cissnei caught his gaze and pointed first at her eyes, then toward the shattered window. Weakly, he shook his head.

Whoever had shot Reno must have seen them all though the windows, yet he had been the first target. If their assailant had deliberately tried to take out the Turk first, they would probably try to finish the job, which would give her a brief window to act.

But act _how_? She was unarmed; Reno didn't have a gun on him or he would have had it out by now, since he was clearly unable to wield anything else now. Maybe she could wait until the shooter was closer to Reno, then strike from behind?

No, the angles were wrong. Reno was closer to the front door; their attacker would put a bullet in him long before Cissnei got her chance.

…Unless she threw something. She grabbed Nina's shoulder and pulled her close.

"Give me a saucer," she whispered, pointing at the stacks on the shelved alcove behind the girl. "Quick and quiet."

She had to nudge Nina in the right direction before the girl obeyed her. Far too slowly for Cissnei's liking, Nina plucked the top saucer from the stack with both hands. She turned back even slower, staring at it with wide eyes as if terrified she might drop it. Once Cissnei managed to coax the saucer out of the girl's death grip, she flipped it in her hand a couple of times, testing the weight and balance. The brittle porcelain was hardly enough to kill or maim, but the surprise ought to buy her a few seconds.

The crunch of glass made them both freeze to the spot. Nina clamped her hands over her mouth and curled into a ball, her eyes squeezed shut. The glass crunched again, and again. Footsteps, approaching from the broken window. Cissnei turned to Reno. His head had lolled back into the corner and his chest heaved with labored breaths, but his eyes were still open. He locked them with hers, then looked up. Cissnei followed his gaze to the mirror on the wall behind the counter. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw a face.

A face she recognized: Adam, her white knight. Cissnei swore under her breath.

Through the mirror she watched as he turned his head toward Reno and stopped. They were out of time.

"Adam," she cried, feigning surprise, and clambered to her feet. "What are you doing?"

Adam barely gave her a glance before he stepped forward, raising his gun – aimed at Reno. Cissnei threw up her arm, saucer in hand, and with a seasoned flick of her wrist she sent it flying. It shattered against Adam's forehead; with a shout of surprise, he stumbled back. His gun clattered across the floor, and Cissnei dove for the light switch before he could find it again. She turned back to see Reno launch himself at the man and crash them both through a table. The darkness she had plunged them into wasn't complete; she saw the wrestling men silhouetted against the streetlights outside. Adam grabbed Reno by the throat and punched him straight in his bleeding gut. With a choked gurgle, Reno went limp.

Withs a bright-hot surge of fury, Cissnei leapt over the counter. She flung her arm around Adam's neck, intending to choke the life out of the bastard, but he got a hold of her wrist and yanked. The world went upside down and she hit the floor flat on her back, knocking the wind out her. A heavy weight landed on her, pinning her down as a pair of hands closed around her throat and squeezed. Gasping for air that wouldn't come, clawing at fingers that wouldn't budge, Cissnei stared up at the wicked grin on Adam's face. Blood welled from a cut on his forehead and hit her face in a steady stream hot droplets, but his grip was relentless. Black spots danced in front of her eyes. As her hands grew weaker, the ringing in her ears grew louder and _louder_–

A sudden _pop_ cut through the insensible buzz in her head. Cissnei sucked in a desperate breath as the pressure on her throat eased, only to have it whoosh out of her again as Adam collapsed on top of her. Wheezing and sputtering, she shoved at his dead weight until she managed to wriggle out sideways. Once she had pulled free enough to breathe she rolled onto her back, gasping in wonderful lungfuls of air.

She expected to see Reno at Adam's feet, sneering in victory. Instead she saw Nina, holding the gun in her trembling hands. She stared down at the lifeless body with eyes and mouth wide open, frozen in place.

But if she had saved Cissnei, where was…

"Reno!" Cissnei wanted to shout his name, but all that came out was a sad little croak. She had already spotted him, though, lying still on the floor where Adam's sucker-punch had dropped him. A chill washed through her veins. On all fours, she scrambled over the body between them and kneeled at Reno's side.

His breaths were quick and shallow, his lips white. His head lolled toward her in slow-motion and he blinked several times before he was able to focus on her.

"Ciss," he gasped.

"Shh, don't talk," she croaked, forcing the words through her aching throat. "I've got you."

With her left hand hovering over his wound, she fumbled back the sleeve. She placed her other hand over over the green orb set into her bracelet and willed her mind to focus on its power.

Reno's eyes widened as he stared at her wrist.

"You… kept it," he panted.

"Lucky for you that I did. Now hush, let me work."

She closed her eyes and directed her thoughts at the materia. It had been years since she last called on a Cure, and when the orb responded it was like opening a floodgate. The magic coursed through her, feeding on her strength before flooding out through her palm into Reno's wound – and as it connected them, she could feel him too, like another light in the darkness around them. Fluttering, fading; but as the Cure worked its magic his presence grew stronger, hotter, kindled into a searing flame that drew her in like a moth.

The magic winked out and severed their connection. Cissnei slumped back on her heels, reeling from the sheer intensity of it. Not of the Cure itself, but what she had brought into it. She had left herself too open, had let the connection grow too strong. _Rookie mistake._

"Why isn't he moving?" Nina's voice was shrill with fear. "Is he dead?"

Cissnei blinked her eyes open, gave her head a little shake to rid it of the last tendrils of the magic. Reno still lay on the ground, but his face was no longer tight with pain and his chest rose and fell at a gentler pace.

"He's breathing." Gently, she pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Reno? Can you hear me?"

"Ciss," he mumbled. "Can…" The rest of disappeared in a mumble.

"What was that?"

"Please…" It was little more than a breath. "You…"

Frowning, she pulled his shirt up. The magic had pushed out the bullet; she picked it up and carefully wiped away the blood on his stomach. As far as she could tell under the glow from the streetlights outside, the wound was gone.

"What's wrong?" she asked, trying to will the fear away. She couldn't see any swelling or discoloration, and his skin didn't feel hot or clammy under her fingers. He should have been fine.

Reno's lips were moving, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. She bent down, pricking her ears.

"Can you…" He paused, gulped down air. "…kiss it better?"

"Oh my god," she groaned. As the relief washed over her, she let her head slump down on his chest. "You're such an _asshole_."

"What?" Nina squeaked behind her. "What's happening?"

"Please." He coughed theatrically and raised a limp hand to his forehead. "My strength… it's fading…"

Rolling her eyes, Cissnei pushed herself to her knees and smacked his belly.

"Ciss!" Nina gasped as Reno flinched and moaned.

"That's all you're getting from me, you little shit," Cissnei told him as he picked himself off the floor, but while her voice was stern, she couldn't keep the smile off her face.

"Sorry." He was smiling too; a gentle smile, instead of the unapologetic grin she might have expected. "Couldn't resist seeing if you'd still fall for it."

Cissnei scoffed and hopped to her feet.

"One of these days I'll leave you to bleed," she warned as she offered him a hand.

"Nah," he shot back as she pulled him up, "you're–"

He swayed precariously and whatever he meant to add was lost. Cissnei grabbed his arms and steadied him as best she could, fervently hoping he wouldn't black out completely. He was too tall and she too short for that to end well.

"Whoa." Reno shook his head and blinked repeatedly. "Guess I bled out a lil' too much already."

Concern stirred in the pit of Cissnei's stomach as she looked him over. Half of his shirt was soaked through; who knew how much had seeped into his dark jeans.

"Come on, let's find you a seat." With one arm around his waist, she took a step toward the nearest chair.

"Not here," he mumbled. "The back."

He kept a hand on her shoulder as they crossed the spray of broken glass, but let go when she unlocked the door to the staff room in the back. Once inside, she lifted a stack of used tablecloths off the only chair in the room. She took the chance to wipe her hands clean on one of them.

"Here," she told him. "Take a seat."

Nina shuffled in after him, her eyes puffy and her cheeks damp with tears. Most of her hair had come loose from her ponytail and her pants had suffered a long gash below the knee. Reno looked even worse. His shirt was drenched through with blood around the hole left by the bullet. The thighs of his jeans were stained red, too. Cissnei wrinkled her nose. It wouldn't be long before the smell would permeate the small room they huddled in.

"Can we talk?" Reno tapped his ear twice.

"I couldn't find anything in here," she reported. "I keep it locked, too."

With a nod, he turned to the girl who cowered in the far corner.

"So, Miss Nina… Feel like having that chat now?"

"_What?_" Nina squeaked. "I-I just killed someone! He's lying dead right there!"

"Seriously?" Cissnei asked him. "Can't it wait?"

"Might not get the chance once the cops show up, what with her killing a dude and all." With a wry smile, he looked back at Nina. "Sorry, sweetheart. Had a nice speech prepared for ya, but now I gotta skip straight to the point."

Nina blanched and took a step back. "You'll kill me?"

With a snort, Reno leaned back and clasped his hands over his gut.

"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead already, all right? I sure as hell wouldn't blabber on about it first. No, Lil' Miss Nina," he gave her a weary grin, "I'm here to offer you a job."

Slowly, her jaw dropped.

"Huh?"

"Okay, I'm lost," Cissnei said to the room in general. "I'm so totally, completely lost here."

"Then let's fill you in." Grunting softly, Reno stretched out his legs in front of him. "Right, Nina?"

The girl glowered at him beneath her brows. Slouching in the chair, his boots nearly touched the opposite wall; to leave she would have to climb over him, Cissnei realized. A deterrent without intimidation.

"See, our lil' friend here is a troublemaker," he drawled on. "Ever since the WRO brought back the Net, she's been linking up and poking her nose into places she don't belong. Places like Shinra's classified databases."

Weary and battered as she was, Cissnei needed a moment for it to sink in. She turned to the girl, dazed.

"Is this true?" Even as she asked the question, the answer was plain. Nina was pouting like a little kid.

"If they wanted their files kept secret," she muttered, "they should have hidden them better."

Reno wheezed out a laugh, even as he had to press his arm into his side. The wound may have healed, but the soreness always lingered for a few days.

"What did I tell ya, Ciss? Troublemaker with a capital T." He snickered again. "Lucky for lil' Nina – and for me, back in the day," he grinned at the girl, "Shinra appreciates certain a kinda troublemaker. You're real damn smart, Nina. We can use that."

With a groan, Cissnei covered her eyes.

"If you wanted to offer her a job, why didn't you just say so? All that talk about 'fixing problems' and 'cleaning up'… I thought you were going to take her out, too!"

"Wait," Nina said, looking between them. "You told _her_?"

"Thing is, I didn't know who I was s'posed to offer it _to_," Reno said, as if he hadn't heard the girl at all. "We were able to track the signal to her old man's company network, but that's as far as we could get from back in Edge."

Nina's mouth fell open. "You tracked me that far?"

He rolled his head her way and smirked.

"You're pretty good, Miss Nina, but you ain't the only smart kid on the Net. We got a whole team to keep an eye on Shinra's online assets. You could be one of 'em. Best part, is we can help each other out. Mutually beneficial, yo."

Her eyes darted to Cissnei's face, then back to him.

"How?" she asked, barely audible.

"We can clean up that mess you made in there, for starters."

He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of the front room. Nina went pale and stared down at her hands.

"And like I said," he continued, "you got skills. We can get you what you need to make 'em better than you ever imagined. Scholarship at the Tech Academy in Edge. Mentors from the Shinra Net security team." He spread his hands. "All you gotta do is ask. No more begging from your old man."

Slowly, Nina raised her head. From the look in her eye, Cissnei knew he had hit the right nerve.

"'Sides," he added, "it's pretty damn clear you've pissed off more people than just us. You've snooped out what we Turks do, yeah?" He smiled wider, revealing his teeth. "Then you know you're better off with us on your side, yo."

"Is that what will happen if I say no? You'll come after me, just like that guy back in there?"

"Like I said," Reno said, still smiling, "you're real damn smart."

Nina swallowed and looked away. A few moments passed in silence.

What could Cissnei do? Had she had time to think she might have been able to figure out the right thing to say, but the adrenaline had left her tired and shaky, with a headache looming on the horizon. Emotional pleas wouldn't help Nina out of a mess like this.

"Will I be working with you?" the girl finally asked Reno.

He arched an eyebrow. "Maybe. Depends on the mission. That a problem?"

A timid smile bloomed on her face as she shook her head. Reno's eyebrows rose even higher, but Cissnei wasn't surprised. Hormones; no teenager was safe from those.

"What about her?" Nina's voice had grown steadier. "What will happen to her?"

As he looked over to her, his smile changed. Cissnei wondered if Nina could tell.

"I'm sure we can come to an understanding," he said slowly. "Right, Ciss?"

Slowly, the weight of her situation settled on her aching shoulders. What choice did she have, with a dead body in her demolished tearoom? If she ran now, it would be pinned on her – pinned by the Turks, if not the police. Hiding from Shinra was bad enough, but hiding from them _and_ the law?

"Sure," she said with a humorless smile. "It's the Shinra way, isn't it?" Trapped, once again.

"Okay," Nina said, oblivious to their unspoken dialog. "I'll do it."

A thin wail cut through the night; the siren of a police car.

"Kay, that's our cue." Reno pushed himself to his feet and peeked out through the door. "Ciss, does that window open?"

He pointed to a narrow window on the far wall in the back, nestled between two bookshelves. It would be a squeeze, especially for Nina, but it was better than the front door. She nodded.

"Kay, you know the drill," he continued. "Me and Nina were never here. The dead guy tried to break in and rob the place, but you got the drop on him, shot him with his own gun. Deal?"

With a start, Cissnei looked up at him.

"You expect me to take the fall for this?"

Reno paused.

"Who else? You work here alone every day. It ain't even your gun. It's a clear-cut case of self-defense, no cop's gonna think twice about it."

He seemed surprised by her protests. Anger simmered in her veins. After all her attempts to make her position clear, he still expected her to come meekly back into the fold.

"I don't clean up after Shinra anymore," she hissed through her teeth.

He was quiet as he sized her up with narrowed eyes. Cissnei's neck prickled. She still wasn't used to being on the receiving end of that piercing stare.

"So don't do it for Shinra." He flicked his chin at Nina. "Do it for her. Your _friend_, right?"

Nina flinched as if he had slapped her. She looked at Cissnei, her eyes wide in her white face.

"Wait," she whispered. "This isn't what I–"

"With a rich daddy like hers," he pressed on, "she'll be all over the news once this goes public. Whoever sent this guy will recognize him and know he botched the job. Sooner or later, they'll send someone else to finish it."

A shout echoed down the street outside. Reno jogged to the doorway and peeked into the front room.

"C'mon, Ciss," he pleaded as he turned back, his voice urgent. "Deal?"

Cissnei looked over at Nina. The girl was staring up at Reno, her bottom lip quivering. So quick to accept the help of a Turk, when she had no idea what it might entail. So hopelessly in over her head; exactly the kind of person who needed that help the most.

"Fine."

With a sharp nod, Reno headed for the window. He climbed out first. They both helped Nina do the same in a far less graceful fashion. "I'm sorry," she mouthed before she let go. When Cissnei tried to encourage her with a smile, the girl buried her face in her hands and turned away, shoulders shaking. Cissnei sighed and reached for the window, but Reno intercepted her hand.

"Don't worry," he murmured. "No matter how it goes, I got your back. Count on it."

He pressed his lips to the palm of her hand; the hand that had healed him. Cissnei's heart thumped hard. Her mind went blank; she could only stare as he offered her a smile and melted into the darkness. In that moment, only one thought burned bright in her head: he had taken the wrong girl with him.

Her hands trembled as she closed the window behind them. She squeezed her eyes shut and with a deep breath, she forced that foolish notion out of her mind.

On her way back, she took a few moments to check for bloodstains and other telltale signs. The used tablecloths she brought with her to the front room and dropped near the body; as the pooling blood soaked into the fabric, it hid the red handprints she had left when she moved the pile. She placed the gun in the middle of the floor in plain sight – after making sure her fingerprints had replaced Nina's – then walked in behind the counter and took a seat on the floor. She wrapped her arms around her legs, rested her forehead on her knees, and closed her eyes. There, at last, she thought of Reno and let the memories wash over her.

The siren grew louder and louder; just as it became unbearable, it stopped. She heard shouts, felt the floorboards vibrate under heavy steps. When the police shone their flashlights on her, she raised her face, wet with tears.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I didn't mean to do it. I didn't mean to hurt him."


	6. A Poignant Exchange

**6\. A Poignant Exchange**

* * *

Cissnei stared dully at the plain white mug of tea she was brewing in her kitchen. Her bones felt too heavy for her, but standing was less effort than dragging herself to a chair. She had been examined by police and paramedics, had answered one cautiously probing question after another. After a long, steaming shower, she felt just about ready to melt into bed - if only her head would stop buzzing. When her mind wasn't replaying the evening's events, it was adding to her mental list of everything she needed to do the next day. Someone from the police was keeping an eye on the tearoom overnight, but in the morning Cissnei would need to find someone to fix the broken window. She would need to find someone to clean up the mess inside, too; a mild-mannered tearoom hostess wasn't supposed to know how clean up a murder scene. She also needed to–

With a groan, Cissnei shook her head. If only she could shake out all those persistent thoughts, too.

She removed the silver ball from her mug, feeling a muted pang of guilt. Her boss would scoff at her choice of tea infuser, she just knew it. Well, tough. Mildred wasn't the one who had been bruised to oblivion by an assassin that night. Cissnei took a sip and swallowed gingerly, grimacing from the pain. The tea was one of Mildred's soothing blends, advertised for colds and coughs. As Cissnei breathed in the grassy, licorice-sweet aroma, she idly wondered if her boss would be amenable to adding strangulation to the list.

Her back twinged as she lowered herself onto the couch. She had made a rookie mistake in that scuffle, attacking with her heart instead of her head. Cissnei scoffed; she had gone soft, all right. She was damned lucky to have have come out of that with only bruises. She sipped her tea and closed her eyes. At least for tonight, it was over.

A knock sounded from the front door.

Cissnei's eyes snapped open. She listened for a moment, but when no other sound came, she set down her mug and eased herself off the couch without a noise. She kept the light above the door switched off as she tiptoed up to it and peered through the peephole. Her unease didn't lessen one bit when she spotted the familiar thatch of red hair. Why was Reno at her door so soon?

Only one way to find out. Cissnei flicked on the lights and unlocked the door.

"There you are," he greeted. "Was beginning to think I'd ended up at the wrong house."

His smile made her stomach flutter. It was his private smile, the one he used to give her on sleepy mornings.

"I'm surprised you ended up at the right one." Her voice felt rough in her throat. "I never told you where I live."

"I'm a Turk, remember?" He craned his neck, trying to peek over her head. "Mind if I come in?"

"Shouldn't you be resting up?" she asked, checking his stomach. He had changed into a dark green t-shirt. His jeans must have been new, too, because she couldn't spot any blood on them. If she hadn't known better, she would never have guessed he had been shot only a few hours earlier.

Lucky him. If only bruises Cured away as easily.

"I'll get to it soon enough. Wanted to talk to you first." He glanced down either side of the hallway. "Maybe without all your neighbors listening in on us, yeah?"

With a sigh, Cissnei stepped aside. Reno rewarded her with a toothy grin as he strolled past her and into her living room. She followed at a slower pace, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Having him show up at the tearoom was one thing. Having him slouch around in her living room should have felt like an intrusion on her private space – and yet it didn't. She didn't know what to do with that.

"When I said talk, I really just meant checking in on ya." His gaze drifted down to her throat as he spoke. "And good thing I did," he said, frowning. "That doesn't look too good."

He reached for her, but Cissnei took a quick step back and used her mug of tea as an excuse to turn away.

"I'll be fine. It's not as bad as it looks."

With a sigh, Reno let his hand fall.

"The cops give you any trouble?"

"No. The shaken victim act worked like a charm, especially with all this." She gestured to her bruised throat. "Didn't hurt that the guy was as shady as they get. No ID, unregistered gun, fake plates… Sounds like they'll write him up as one of those small-time crooks who drift from town to town, stealing whatever they can get their hands on."

"Plenty of those around since Meteor." He dropped down on the couch and smiled up at her. "Thanks, Ciss. I'll keep an eye on it, make sure the story stays that way."

Cissnei was supposed to take a seat on the couch, too; it would have been the normal, expected thing to do. But he had spread out as he was wont to do, resting his arms along the top of the sofa. Sitting down would have placed her in his reach, so she remained standing and crossed her arms over her chest.

"So, you came back. Is it my turn now? Join or die?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he was quick to recover.

"You can join if you want. Pretty sure we can skip the dying part, tho'." He was grinning, playing it off as a joke.

"You expect me to believe that, after what you told Nina tonight? I know more Shinra secrets than she ever will."

"And you'll keep 'em." He lifted his arms off the couch and placed them on his knees, leaning forward. "Look," he sighed, "I never should've said what I did before, about turning you in to Tseng. That wasn't me being a Turk. That was me being me." His lips twitched. "Being a real dumbass side of me."

Cissnei stared at him.

"Was that… some kind of apology?"

"Yeah, well…" This time, his smile stayed longer. "Maybe I'm going soft, too."

By Shiva, he actually seemed sincere about it. She looked down at her hand, the one that was fidgeting with the sleeve of her cardigan.

"Doesn't matter what you do or don't say, anyhow," she muttered. "Nina knows about me now."

"She knows a girl called Ciss who serves tea in a bookshop. Gotta be more than one Ciss in the world."

"You're serious." She laughed, because she didn't know what else to do with her disbelief.

"Look, I ain't gonna pretend that I get it, but if this really is what you want for yourself…" With a deep sigh, he hung his head. "Then I ain't gonna be the one who screws it up for ya."

Cissnei couldn't come up with a single thing to say. It wasn't supposed to go like this.

It had to be a trick of some sort. He would never have backed down so easily, all those years ago. He would never have been so damned… _reasonable_.

_You never gave him the chance_.

"Where is she, anyway?" she asked quickly, trying to ignore that feeling in her stomach.

He tilted his head to appraise her. Her voice must not have been steady enough. Cissnei rubbed her fingers along her collarbone, hoping to draw his attention to her bruised throat. With any luck, he would buy the excuse.

"Dropped her off at her house," he finally said. "Gotta be the safest place in town, the way her dad's got it covered in cameras and alarms."

"You really are going soft, letting her out of your sight like this. What if she makes a run for it?"

"Snuck a tracker into her phone. Put another in her headphones." He shrugged. "'Sides, you know what she's like. She might give us the slip on the Net, but she can't hide from us out here in the real world."

"I'm not sure she'd even want to run," she muttered, remembering Nina's stolen glances. "From the way she looks at you, you might have a stalker on your hands."

"You jealous, baby?"

His crooked smile told her it was another joke. She wanted to scoff it off, but instead she dug her fingers into the sleeves of her cardigan. How many others had gazed at him like Nina over the years?

Reno's smile faded.

"Hey… She'll be meeting a whole bunch of new people soon. She'll forget me soon enough."

"Forget?" She managed a snort. "The Reno I knew would call himself irresistible beyond all sense and reason."

"Guess the Reno you knew recently found out just how forgettable he is." As soon as he had said it, he made a face. "Fuck. Let's just pretend I never said that, yeah?"

Cissnei slid her fingers over the bracelet around her arm, tracing its shape through her sleeve. Reno, ever alert, glanced at her hand. After tonight, he knew what she wore on her arm. She expected a smile or a quip, but he just watched her wrist in silence.

"You never wore it before," he finally said. "Too worried the others might talk."

She could have lied. It would have been easy enough to come up with some excuse about practicality. But that look in his eyes as he watched her… She didn't want to watch it die again.

"The others aren't here now."

_But you could be._

She came so close to saying it out loud; to asking him to forget about going back. To stay, with her. If Shinra really had changed, he could do it.

But she didn't, because she knew what his answer would be. She didn't want to hear him say it.

"The job's changed, y'know." His fingers were moving slowly, rolling something back and forth between them. "What you've seen me do here is pretty much as far as I go, these days."

A bullet, she recognized. Probably the one she had Cured out of him. In the excitement, she had lost track of it.

"What, getting shot?"

"Nah, not that part," he chuckled. "Thank fuck. But tracking down the right people, offering 'em jobs… We're pretty much glorified recruiters now."

"Is that supposed to entice me?"

"Well, if you're looking for more of a thrill," he held up the bullet between two fingers, "I heard you might still get shot sometimes."

He was smiling. So was she. How easy it was, slipping into old rhythms.

"I gave you an answer," she said, looking away. "It's not going to change."

All this talking made her throat hurt. She reached for her tea, too quickly. She winced and went still until the twinge passed.

"Back giving you trouble?" Reno asked.

"Yeah," she admitted, gingerly rolling her shoulder. "Bad landing."

"Want me to take a look?"

She would have to remove her cardigan. He would have to get close. Put his hands on her.

"It's fine," she said quickly. "I've had worse."

Reno rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, don't be a dumbass. I got a hi-potion right here." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a silver metal tube; a Shinra-issued vial for field use, she recognized. "Figured you might be a lil' black and blue after tonight."

Cissnei eyed the vial in his hands. It was a simple trick, one they had used all the time back in the day: rub a bit of hi-potion into a bump or a bruise and it would be gone in the morning. Her attention shifted to the slim fingers that were holding the vial. Which was worse: a week of pain, or a fresh reminder of what she had left behind?

The more she thought about it, the less it mattered. She felt so tired. It wasn't just the events of this one long night, but a fatigue that had crept into her bones over years of being on her guard. She ached, inside and out.

"Okay." She needed a break, if only for a few minutes. Was that such a bad thing?

She took a seat sideways on the couch, with her back to him. As he scooted in behind her, she let her cardigan slip over her shoulders. Thankfully, she wore a camisole with thin straps over her shoulders, which left most of her upper back bare. It would be enough for a cursory examination.

His fingers brushed her skin, and suddenly she wished she had worn more. She held her breath as he gently pushed her hair over her shoulder.

"Tell me where it hurts," he murmured.

As she closed her eyes and bowed her head, his fingertips began their meandering trail from the back of her neck. Light as the brush of petals on skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, they traveled along the entire slope of her shoulder before doubling back. By her spine they changed direction again, weaving a slow zig-zag down the left side of her back. Cissnei dug her fingers into the cushion she sat on, to hide their trembling. Had a visible bruise formed already, or was he avoiding her injury by sheer luck?

When his fingertips reached the fabric of her camisole, he ran them up across her back to her other shoulder and continued his sweep. The few inches they needed to travel to reach the ache seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye. It would be so easy to say nothing and let him cover her back in sweet caresses, but if she did…

"There," she whispered.

His fingers left her for a moment; when they returned, they were slick with hi-potion. Cissnei drew a shuddering breath as he spread the ointment over her aching shoulder. She hadn't felt that peculiar hot-cold tingle in years. On its own it would make her skin crawl, but his touch confounded her senses, turned the sensation into something unbearably exquisite that whitened her knuckles and curled her toes.

His fingers reached the edge of her camisole, skimmed along it. He shifted behind her, and she felt a different touch: his lips, on the nape of her neck.

"What are you doing?" It took every ounce of her willpower to say it.

He went still.

"Just kissing it better," he mumbled as he drew back.

The air felt cold in the wake of his touch. Shivering, Cissnei shrugged into her cardigan and pulled it tight.

When she turned to sit normally on the couch, she found him hunched over with his elbows on his thighs, staring at the floor.

"I don't get it. I just don't. What'd I do?"

The quiver in his voice unnerved her. She had never heard it before, not from him.

"I just don't think this is a good–"

"I'm talking about back then," he spat, his voice rising. "About whatever the hell it was that made you ditch me without a single fucking word."

There was that sick twist in her gut again. It would have been easy to cover it with spite, to hurl hurtful words at him until they parted in anger – but the crestfallen look on his face from the last time she had tried that approach was too fresh in her mind. Cissnei wrapped her arms around her waist; not to hide but to contain, to embrace that queasy feeling at last. She closed her eyes and let the guilt worm its way up to her heart where it belonged.

"You didn't do anything," she whispered.

"I must've done something," he insisted bitterly, "since you won't come near me no more."

"I told you, it's about Shinra."

"Bullshit," he scoffed. "This, right here?" He waved a hand between them. "It's got fuck-all to do with Shinra. It's just you and me."

He still didn't get it. Maybe he couldn't even see how tightly his life was bound to Shinra. Even someone as perceptive as Reno was bound to have their blind spots.

"I don't regret leaving," she said. "I've made my choice, and I'm not going back. But… I'm sorry I left the way I did. I was afraid that if I'd see you… I would never leave at all."

He snorted. "Guess you were worried about nothing."

"Guess again. There's a reason I've been trying so hard to avoid you."

He raised his head, just enough to peek at her through the red bangs that hung in his face.

"So… you still want me?"

"Seriously?" she sighed. "That's your takeaway from all this?"

"I'm just trying to understand, all right? I already said I ain't gonna mess things up for ya. You want nothing to do with Shinra? Fine, I ain't gonna try changing your mind." His eyes burned blue, searingly sincere. "But I want you, okay? If you still want me, then what the hell is the problem?"

He made it sound so simple. He always did.

"I've said my goodbyes," she said quietly. "I don't want to say them again tomorrow."

"Who says it's gotta be goodbye?"

"What else could it be? Some secret affair where you show up once a month at best, whenever you manage to scrounge up the time?"

"You could come back with me."

She sighed and shook her head.

"Not to Shinra," he added quickly. "Plenty of other jobs in Edge. Pick a new name, a new look… None of the others need to know."

"I'd just be hiding again. That's not what I want."

"You're hiding here too, y'know. Hiding who you are, from everyone around you."

"It's a work in progress." She gave him a wry smile. "Old habits die hard."

Reno didn't smile back. He lowered his head until he was looking down at his hands. He was still holding the silver vial, slowly spinning it between his fingers.

"You want nothing to do with me, then?" he asked. "Nothing at all?"

His voice sounded strange, all meek and quiet and utterly unlike him. Cissnei wished for an expression to gauge, but his face was obscured by his red mess of hair. After a moment's hesitation, she placed a hand on his arm.

"It's not a matter of wanting. It's just not going to work. Not when our lives are so different."

"You don't know that," he said quietly.

"You're right," she admitted, "and when you don't know, you need faith. I don't have that."

His hand formed a fist around the vial. Swallowing hard, he turned his head away. Silence fell, until he shrugged her off and pushed himself off the couch.

"I oughta get back," he said, staring at the floor. "Let you get some sleep."

Cissnei rose, too, though she couldn't say why. Her palm felt hot; she curled up her hand and covered it with the other, as if that could make the warmth of his skin linger a little longer.

"Let _you_ get some sleep, too," she said, trying to make it lighter than she felt.

He snorted as if she had just cracked a joke.

"Yeah. Sure."

He rolled his shoulders and stuck his thumbs into his pockets. Without so much as a glance in her direction, he strolled across her living room. He had returned to his casual self – or so she thought, until he stopped at the front door and finally looked at her. There was no little half-smile, no nonchalance, as his eyes trailed over her one last time. Just him, tired and lost and hurting.

"Take care, Ciss."

He saw himself out. Once the front door had clicked shut, all the energy Cissnei had used to keep herself under control rushed out of her. With unsteady legs, she slumped back down on the couch. Her hands were trembling; she picked up her mug and flattened them around it, squeezed it in a chokehold until the worst had passed.

She had what she had wished for: the freedom to do anything she wanted. She had a whole new life ahead of her… and all it was missing was the only thing that had ever made her question her decisions.

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Cissnei closed her eyes and imagined his breath on her skin, his lips on hers, the touch of his hands. The memories would fade with time, or so she kept hoping, but his presence had breathed new life into them. If she could only have let him stay, just for that one night, and still bring herself to say goodbye in the morning. Alone on her couch in her lifeless apartment, she let herself indulge in fantasies of what could have been.


	7. A Promise

**7\. A Promise**

* * *

The news spread quickly, as news always did in small towns like Utgar. More people passed by the shop in the fifteen minutes it took the repairman to assess the damaged window than Cissnei would normally see all day. Once a new window had been installed and the tearoom had reopened its doors, the customers poured in faster than she could pour their tea. Many of them were kids and teenagers who peppered her with nosy questions, while her regulars tempered theirs with exclamations of concern. Cissnei satisfied their curiosity with half-truths and outright lies. If they wanted more, she would smile and direct them to the True Crime section.

It was a very lucrative week.

By the end of the following week, even after the worst of the hubbub had died down, the jangle of the door bell had become a commonplace occurrence. When it announced the arrival of yet another customer on Friday morning, Cissnei barely glanced up – and froze as she saw Reno step within. She sized him up with caution, but the smile he gave her seemed genuine, and his gait was easy as he strolled up to the counter.

"Hey." He remained standing, with a relaxed slope to his shoulders and his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans. He gazed at her expectantly with that slight smile still on his face, as if he had just dropped by for a friendly chat.

What more could they have to say to each other, after going their separate ways that night? Reno had only returned because he wanted something. Cissnei was sure of it.

"Any chance you're just here for a cup of tea?" She sounded surprisingly normal.

"Sorry, Ciss. Tea ain't my thing."

"That's what I thought." She glanced over her shoulder toward the back; everything was quiet, but she knew a couple of customers were browsing the library. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we? I don't have as much downtime as I used to."

"Yeah. Sure."

He stared at the floor for a moment, gathering his thoughts. His hair had returned to the red disarray she remembered, presumably because he no longer had a role to tidy up for. She wondered if he was still content to just run his fingers through it a few times in the mornings and call it done.

"The paperwork came through this morning," he finally said. "We're flying out today."

The news sank into Cissnei's stomach like a stone into a pond. She had known it was coming, just hadn't been sure whether she would hear about it before or after their departure. Since she hadn't seen or heard from either of them since the night of the shooting, she had assumed it would be the latter. She had even begun to hope for it; it would have been simple, would have kept things clean. Now that he was standing before her to deliver the news, she didn't know what to do with it.

"What does her dad have to say about that?" she asked, mostly to keep the silence at bay. She didn't want this kind of silence, not with him.

Reno shrugged. "Don't matter what he says, now that she no longer needs his gil."

"Sounds too simple to be true."

"Oh, he's tried to put her off it, sure." He chuckled. "Unluckily for him, she takes after her old man. Girl's as stubborn as a gnarly old 'bo when she puts her mind to it."

Cissnei smiled, remembering all the cups of tea that had gone cold while Nina ranted about her dad.

"That sounds like her, all right."

"She wanted to tell you all this herself, but it's a bit too soon after…" He formed a gun with his fingers and pretended to fire off a shot. "Just thinking about it gives her the creeps, she says."

"I don't blame her," Cissnei sighed.

"You okay with it?" Reno tilted his head, examining her face. "Having to come back every morning, I mean?"

Her eyes sought out the spot where the bullet had dropped him. She followed the red trail he had left on the floor as if the smears of his blood were still there, over to where he had come close to bleeding out. Entering the parlor no longer gave her a chill, but she spent hours behind the counter every day. The first time back had been harder to face.

"It's fine. Well… during the day, at least. The owner comes by in the evenings and helps me close up. She doesn't want me to be alone after dark anymore." She peeked at his stomach, trying to picture where his wound had been. "How are you holding up? Did everything heal okay?"

"You know me." He flashed a grin. "Harder to kill than a cockroach, yo."

Some emotion stirred in Cissnei's chest; maybe it was the smile playing on his lips, or the tone of his voice. The feeling had haunted her several times in the past weeks, each time that a memory from his visit had snuck back into her head. Cissnei bowed her head with the pretense of tidying up behind the counter, hoping he wouldn't notice. She had made her decision. Indulging in second thoughts would do her no good.

The tapping of a finger made her look up. Reno slid a piece of paper across the counter and tapped it again. She turned it her way and deciphered the few lines of his handwriting.

"An address?"

"A noodle joint, near the plaza in Edge. Best egg noodles in town, and the owner is the sweetest, crankiest ol' bat you'll ever meet." He glanced toward the back, then leaned in and lowered his voice. "She knows me. If you're ever in town and need to get in touch… Leave a message with her. She'll pass it on."

Cissnei stared at the note. No phone calls that could be traced, no need to show her face on Shinra turf. A way to slip in under the radar.

Reno leaned back, though he kept his voice low.

"'Til then… I'll leave you alone. Won't tell the others I saw you. Promise."

She didn't have the courage to look at his face. His hand still rested on the counter, his fingers less than an inch from hers. It would have taken no effort at all to slide them closer, to touch and to hold.

And then his hand would have hers in an unbreakable grip, and he would pull her right back to everything she had worked so hard to leave behind.

"Guess this is goodbye, then," she said quietly, watching the space between their fingers.

A few silent seconds ticked by. His hand pulled away, until it slipped over the edge of the counter and out of view.

"Guess it is."

When she risked a glance at him, he gave her a smile; too small for his swagger and quick to fade. The kind of smile she remembered from the old days, from the rare quiet moments they shared alone. In her memories, it was brighter.

He turned, walked away. The door opened, closed, and he was gone.

A silence settled over Cissnei, sagging her shoulders with its weight. Slowly, she moved her hand to the note and traced the words with the tip of a nail. His letters were drawn with careless slashes, their angles either too wide or too narrow and never consistent. His handwriting hadn't improved one bit since her Midgar days.

He had been right about one thing: he hadn't changed much at all. While her own skills were definitely rusty, their teamwork was still as well-oiled as ever. She closed her eyes and relived the familiar thrill of adrenaline, how it shocked her system in the span of a single breath. Heart pounding, her pulse like thunder in–

The doorbell jangled again and the room flooded with the chatter of new customers. With a start, Cissnei snatched up the note.

"Be right with you," she called as she turned to the bin. Clinging to it any longer would only make it worse.

She allowed herself one last look at his terrible handwriting. She would have known it anywhere. He had left her little notes all the time back in the day, colorful squares of paper stuck to her files and her desk. Funny ones, mostly. Nothing important. Not important enough to keep, at any rate. Why would she have kept them? He would always be there, already writing another one.

The Reno she remembered had always put Shinra first. That Reno would never have let her go – or so she had thought. His sudden arrival had revived memories that didn't fit the narrative she had written about those years. The lines he had scrawled on the slip of paper in her fingers spelled out an address, but between them she read a different message: she had been wrong about him.

Slowly, Cissnei brought her hand back, still staring at the note. She had been wrong about Nina, too. She had even come to the wrong conclusion about "Adam the divorcee" at first. Maybe she had the wrong idea about a whole lot of things.

With nimble fingers, Cissnei folded the note once, twice, into a tidy rectangle. She tucked it into the safety of her apron pocket and turned back to her customers with a smile.

* * *

**A/N**:

And so we come to the end. This was always meant to be a short story, but many of you dear readers have posed questions about the future fate of Cissnei, Reno, and Nina that _I_ am curious about now. Who knows, maybe one day I'll explore those questions. No promises, though. X)

In any case, I hope you enjoyed the ride! Special thanks to Mr. Stompy for all that hard, hard beta reading, and to **you** for reading! Until next time!


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